Step Up
by JillianPeters
Summary: After the birth of his son, Ranger takes some time off and Steph and the core team temporarily take over RangeMan. Only someone unexpected  permanently takes over Steph's heart. Ranger-friendly. Rating for language and future chapters. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Step Up  
By Jillian Peters**

**Rating: M for language and future chapters.**

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The phone rang, waking me from a sound sleep.

I quickly yawned before croaking, "'Lo?"

"Babe. It's time."

"Ranger?"

"Get up. It's time."

Time for what? What I knew for sure was that it was _definitely_ time for him to hang up and let me get back to sleep. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. Two-thirty a.m. Was he crazy?

"Steph, I need you. I'm going to be a father and you know I won't be able to get through this without you."

His latest plea hit me like a bulldozer. For the past six months, I'd gotten pretty good at suppressing the feelings that I knew for a fact would come out of hiding when D-Day finally arrived. And it was looking like this particular day would be the day that Ranger's infant son would be welcomed into the world.

Could my Queen of Denial crown _get_ any larger?

I sighed. "Are you sure that Lauren Marie would even want me there? I mean, she's having a baby and probably wouldn't want to see anyone –

"The guys are already here and she's asking for you. Please, Steph. I need you here."

Several deafeningly silent moments passed while I fought yet another mental battle, this time having to choose between _stay_ or _go_. If I stayed, I'd be a horrible, childish bitch and the close friendship I shared with the Man in Black would no doubt be sabotaged, possibly for good. If I went, I'd be the amicable, respectable friend who harbored no visible hard feelings against her former lover's perfectly nice girlfriend and who has appeared to have grown both mentally and emotionally stronger as a woman.

I sighed again. Eventually, _go _claimed the victory and I found myself replying, "Give me fifteen."

"I'm outside of the hospital's Emergency entrance. I'll wait here for you." The line went dead.

This might actually manage to steal the number one spot on Stephanie Plum's List of Totally Unpleasant Experiences, which was currently being occupied by the horror of all horrors: _accompanied Grandma Mazur to the grand opening of the new Pleasure Treasures shop downtown and watched her pick out a variety pack of flavored lubes and a couple of videos that were entitled "Gangbangs of New York" and "Throbbin' Hood", and got our picture snapped outside for the _Trenton Times_ while Grandma gave the reporter a full run-down of her purchases. _

I didn't smile for the camera and, as usual, the photo wasn't all that flattering. My mother had to take the phone off the hook the day the article showed up in the paper and all I heard for a week straight was, "Why do I have a mother who shops at Pleasure Treasures? And why do I have a daughter who drives her there?"

I guess the asshole reporter was inconsiderate enough to leave out the fact that I was at Pleasure Treasures hoping to wrangle in none other than kinky old whack job Caroline Scarzolli, who'd gone FTA again following a situation involving a gun butt, several bottles of vanilla-flavored GooglyGlide, and the sidewalk out in front of McGinty's Pub and Tavern. And Grandma, not wanting to be left out of a bounty hunt at a porno shop, had jumped into the Buick with me and had also refused to unbuckle her seatbelt unless I let her tag along.

Needless to say, Scarzolli had managed to GooglyGlide her way out of my clutches and all I was left with that morning was a very horny grandmother and the newspaper article from hell.

Back to the problem at hand: Ranger's girlfriend Lauren Marie was about to give birth to their son at St. Francis Hospital and I had promised Ranger I'd be there in fifteen minutes (I probably only had thirteen left now) in order to witness the event.

Some clothes from the day before were strewn on the foot of my bed and I took a second to check them out in the mirror after pulling them on. The jeans were slightly creased and the tee shirt had a red jelly donut stain directly over my boob, but I figured as long as they didn't have globs of garbage or splotches of mud on them, I was good to go.

I grabbed my shoulder bag and keys from the hook in the foyer and said good-bye to Rex.

"I'll be back later on in the day," I said to him. I gave him a grape and a reduced-fat Wheat Thin before tapping gently on his cage. "And no sniveling over Ranger and the fact that he'll be a new daddy the next time you see him. Let's be happy for him."

Rex gave me a "yeah, right, lady" look and carried first the Wheat Thin and then the grape into his soup can. Several seconds passed and he didn't re-emerge, so I figured he was done with the conversation.

So much for a few moments of silent encouragement from my roommate.

Sighing, I let myself out of my apartment and headed down to the parking lot before getting into my car to do what I'd suddenly nicknamed "the unthinkable."

On my way to the hospital, my cell phone rang. It was Tank on the line.

"Bomber," he boomed. "Bossman just got called inside. I hope you're on your way over here."

"I'm around the corner," I told Tank. "Two minutes, tops."

"See you in the ER waiting room." Tank disconnected.

The Man of Less-Than-Friendly Phone Etiquette was pacing in front of a row of vinyl-covered lobby chairs in the ER waiting room when I trooped through the automatic sliding glass doors. As soon as he saw me, he strode over in my direction and threw a huge brown arm around my shoulders in a quick hug.

"Santos and Brown are already upstairs," he informed me. "Last I heard she was nine centimeters. When she gets to ten, they'll have her start pushing." Tank started towards the door to the main hospital and I followed, close on his heels.

The rent-a-cop at the security desk near the door stepped out in front of me before Tank and I could proceed any further. "Miss, you'll need a visitor's pass." He motioned to a pair of giant, purple rubber boot prints stuck onto the shiny laminate floor, in front of a small camera. "Please stand on the footsteps so that I can take your picture and issue you an ID sticker."

Awesome. Another unflattering picture to broadcast to Trenton. To make matters worse, it would be my own fault because I'd be _wearing_ the photo. I glanced at Tank. A name sticker with his black-and-white picture printed on it was already stuck onto the front of his red Polo shirt. I sighed and let the security guard snap my mugshot.

When I received my ID sticker, I noticed that I had dark circles under my eyes and hair from hell. I stuck the sticker onto my tee shirt (conveniently over the jelly stain on my boob) and reluctantly followed Tank through the door and into the main hospital. Who was I there to impress, anyway? A hot obstetrician? Nah, not a good idea. If he came home to me one night and had to see just _one more _vagina, he'd probably shoot himself.

"I've been dreading this," I admitted to Tank as I trudged along after him.

"Why, Steph?" He turned to me, confused. "You've known this day was coming for six months now. You've had time to prepare for it."

I sighed. "Yeah, but just because I've accepted it doesn't mean I'm okay with it."

Tank smiled sympathetically and threw an arm around my shoulders again. "You've been through a lot and you've come a long way. Not a lot of women would do what you're doing. And not a lot of women would do it with a smile on their face." He nudged me, forcing a grin to surface on my lips.

"You're right. I should be pretty damn proud of myself."

"Yeah, you should be."

Tank stopped at an elevator and jammed the "up" button with his knuckle. We stood in amicable silence while we waited, each thinking very different thoughts as they blasted through our minds. Tank was there to support his long-time best friend during what would no doubt be one of the happiest moments of his life. I was there for the exact same reason as Tank, but while our bodies were in the same place, doing the same thing, our hearts were on two completely different floors of the hospital.

Tank's heart was with Ranger and Lauren Marie, up in L & D. Mine was down in the basement morgue, on ice along with the rest of the stiffs.

The day that Ranger told me he was going to be a father was possibly one of the worst in my life. I'd seen her around the building from time to time, flashing her beautiful white smile at the guys and tossing her shiny black curls over her shoulder each time she laughed. Although Lauren Marie was the twenty-three year-old daughter of a RangeMan client, she did most of the legwork and handled almost all of the business between Ranger and her father.

For awhile I thought Lester was banging her, because she was young and seemed like his type, but when I'd asked him about it he'd said wistfully, "I wish." The rest of Ranger's core team, which included Bobby and Tank, also both denied any association with her.

So when Lauren Marie showed up in the elevator that had come down from the seventh floor one morning, I knew, without a doubt in my aching heart, that something was up with her and the boss. And when Ranger had cornered me in my office not long after she'd left the building that day, I had absolutely nothing to say to him.

"Babe, just hear me out," he'd pleaded, once he told me Lauren Marie was expecting. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I fucked up, I was irresponsible." He appeared to be a mess, both inside and out. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. Please forgive me."

I'd stayed silent and stared blankly at up at him while he cried, thick tears rolling down his scruffy cheeks. I, Stephanie Plum, had finally mastered the all-reverent Blank Look. "Sorry for what, Ranger? For sleeping with someone else and getting her pregnant? Or for not telling me I really had no chance for a future with you, after all?"

He broke down then, sinking to my office carpet in a sniffling mass of smooth mocha-latte skin and sleek, hulking muscle. Batman, reduced to tears over the loss of his babe and the fertilization of his sperm and an egg in another woman. I actually felt bad for him.

"I'm sorry for it all," he croaked. "Please, babe. Don't desert me over this. I need you in my life, no matter what. I can't do any of this without you. I can't go through any of this without you. _Please_. Please, Stephanie. Please help me through this."

My anger cracked away and I slid down to the floor with him, holding him like a child in my protective arms. The poor bastard. My tears finally began to fall and we cried together for hours over the loss of our somewhat-relationship, over what could have been between us, over the fear that our friendship would never survive this, and over the reality that, in six short months, he would have a child with a woman that he barely knew.

When I'd finally exhausted my tear ducts, I found myself sniffling and telling him, "I'll be here for you, Ranger. I forgive you."

Ranger let out a sigh of relief and squeezed me to him. "You have no idea how much this means to me, Stephanie," he said through his tears. "Thank you for your forgiveness. I understand it'll take awhile for you to accept this, but please know that I care for you deeply and I need you in my life. I want you in my new baby's life. I want to try and make things work with Lauren Marie. She loves you and you know that. I feel awful about how I'd left things with Rachel eleven years ago, and I want to do shit the right way now. It's time I took responsibility for my actions. My child deserves a mother and father who are both equally in its life."

"I know, Ranger," I said quietly. "You're right. This will take me awhile to get over, but I'll do the best I can at supporting you and Lauren Marie."

"Thank you."

I hugged his head to my cheek and felt his sweat-dampened hair against my skin. "You're welcome, Ranger."

A huge scream broke me from my thoughts as a laboring mother was wheeled past us, into a delivery room. Tank and I had gotten off the elevator on the eighth floor and had walked right into a pink-and-blue nightmare. Giant stork murals covered the walls and the sounds of wailing babies drifted out of several of the rooms. We stopped at the nurses' station and were greeted by a friendly-looking woman in a brightly-patterned top.

"Can I help you?" she asked Tank and I.

"We're here to see Lauren Marie...I don't know her last name," I admitted. I turned to Tank. "Any idea?"

"I think it's Candelaria," he answered.

The unit secretary nodded. "She's in eighty-four eleven." She pointed down the hall to our right.

"Thanks," I said. Tank whisked me down to eighty-four eleven by my elbow and before my stomach had the chance to develop any more sickening butterflies, Ranger and Bobby stepped out of the room and Ranger's face lit up when he saw me.

"Steph," he exclaimed on a sigh. He dashed over to Tank and I and swept me into his arms for a hug. "Thank Christ you're here. You didn't miss anything."

I hugged him back and forced a grin. "It's almost showtime, daddy."

Ranger released me and yanked me into eighty-four eleven, where a tiny woman lay huffing and puffing in the middle of a huge hospital bed, her round beach ball belly poking up through the white sheets. From nearby, a galloping heartbeat thumped out of a monitor and a beeping IV pump shared in the telltale labor ruckus.

"Look who's here," Ranger announced to Lauren Marie. She turned to face me and a huge, warm smile broke out across her sweating, flushed face.

"Hey, Steph," she wailed before screaming to no one in particular, "Shit, this _hurts!_"

An older woman with a face and hair identical to Lauren Marie's came bustling over to her bedside. "I'm here for you, mi'jita. Let Carlos give you some ice chips."

Ranger approached the bed with a pink cup full of ice chips and began feeding them to Lauren Marie. "Chew on these, mami."

I hung back with Tank and Bobby near the doorway and watched as a doctor dashed into the room and checked the readout on the fetal monitor. He chased all of us out except for Ranger and Lauren Marie's mother and when the door reopened a few minutes later, Ranger poked his head out into the hall.

"She's at ten," he said excitedly. Suddenly, he paled. "Shit. This is it." He leaned against the wall and deep-breathed. "Fuck. I'm having a baby. Holy shit!"

"Ranger, relax," I said to him. "You'll do fine. I'll be right outside this door. Get in there and be with Lauren Marie. She needs you."

"But _I_ need_ you_, Steph," he protested weakly. He glanced between me and the door to Lauren's room and back again.

"No. She needs you more than you need me. Go."

With a surge of confidence, Ranger puffed out his massive chest. "I can do this. I'm a Ranger. Shit, I'm a mercenary. I never saw Julie being born. But I'm damn sure going to watch my son come into the world." He did the guy handshake with both Tank and Bobby and kissed my cheek one last time.

"Get in there," Bobby said, shoving Ranger toward the door.

"Tell Lauren good luck for us," added Tank. "We'll be right out here."

Ranger pounded a fist on his chest. "Hooah."

Bobby and Tank returned the gesture. "Hooah," they gruffed out.

The ungodly screams and wails that emanated from behind the closed door to Lauren Marie's room were enough to make me want to look into having my tubes tied. After an agonizing hour and a half of sitting outside that delivery room door, Lauren Marie's yells stopped abruptly and a baby's cries suddenly started up.

Ranger was a father. He had a new son.

Several minutes later, he emerged from the room, looking disheveled, sweaty, and happy. "It's a boy," he confirmed. "Ricardo Carlos Manoso the third."

"Congratulations, man," Tank exclaimed, hugging him tightly. Bobby did the same.

"Wanna see him?" Ranger asked us.

Of course we wanted to see him. Does a bear shit in the woods?

He was beautiful. Such a gorgeous baby. And usually babies look a little like aliens or like little wrinkly old people when they're first born, but not Ranger's son. He had Lauren Marie's nose and Ranger's full top lip. Two chins, thick black hair, round pink face. And he was crying, all wrapped up in a blue blanket with a little blue cap over his curls.

When it was my turn to hold him, he stopped screaming. He blinked open his squinty brown eyes and peered curiously at me. Like, who the hell are you? he probably wanted to ask me. And why are your eyes watering? He was just so precious.

I managed to hold it together long enough to pass him to Tank, who looked like a giant with such a teeny baby in his arms.

"What do you think of him, Steph?" Ranger asked me.

"He's perfect." I smiled at Ranger.

Ranger grinned back, looking exhausted but elated. "Yeah. He is."

I headed towards the door. "I guess I should check around for Lester."

Ranger walked me out into the hall and kissed my forehead. "Thank you for being here," he said softly. "I couldn't have gotten through this without you."

I was puzzled. "Well, I didn't do much," I told him.

"Just having you outside that door was enough for me." Ranger folded me into his arms and kissed my forehead one last time. "I'd better get back in to my girlfriend and our baby."

I smiled weakly to his retreating back. "Yeah."

At last I was alone in the hall. A few moments later, booted footsteps came up behind me and the familiar scent of D & G cologne wafted into my nostrils. When his huge arm cradled my shoulders and pulled my face against his plain black tee shirt, for the first time in a very long time, I broke down and cried.

"You look like you could use a friend, kid."

I only cried harder.

He held me tightly to his chest and smoothed my hair back from my face. "C'mon, beautiful. You know I hate seeing you like this."

I nodded and worked hard to calm my sobs. When they were reduced to short sniffles, I replied, "I know."

Lester kissed the top of my head. "Let's go down to the cafeteria for some breakfast. I overheard that they have chocolate chip pancakes."

"Sure."

After we'd popped into Lauren Marie's room to let Lester see the baby and to tell Ranger, Tank, and Bobby where we'd be, Les threw his arm around my shoulders and we started towards the elevator.

"By the way, you look like shit in that picture on your boob."

Damn that paparazzi rent-a-cop to hell.

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**Well? What do you think? Let me know, I'd love to hear from you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, everybody! **

**Thank you for all of the reviews, they were greatly appreciated and have helped a ton! I'm glad you've decided to tune into the second chapter of Step Up! And another huge thank you to Sare for beta-ing this chapter. You've been such a big help! Hope you all enjoy...**

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**Lester's POV**

Stephanie's mouth was full of chocolate chip pancakes when she countered, "So why were you looking at my boob earlier?"

I turned on the Santos Charm and grinned before sipping from my bottle of orange juice. "Because," I replied. "It's cute how you're trying to hide that jelly donut stain." I capped my juice bottle and waggled my eyebrows at her, causing her to blush and frown. "Besides. You know how when you were a kid your parents always wrapped up your Christmas and birthday gifts before giving them to you? And how you'd stare at the wrapping paper and wonder just how awesome the stuff inside the boxes really was? It's kinda like that."

I forked a piece of sausage into my mouth and waited for the tirade, grimacing.

Surprisingly, all I got was a muttered, "Pervert." I even thought I detected a hint of a smile in her voice.

I was shocked. "What, no smack upside the head and a reminder that you've got a boyfriend?" I asked her.

"What boyfriend?" Stephanie set her fork down and scoffed.

"Well," I replied uneasily. "There was that guy you were seeing who works the Geek Squad counter at the Best Buy in Princeton...and hey. What ever happened to the lawn sprayer?"

"Both dead-ends," she replied on a sigh. "Geek Squad stood me up on a date at Rossini's and Connie seems to think it was because he really couldn't afford to take me there and was too embarrassed to admit it, since I'd been the one to suggest that place to eat. And Lawn Sprayer somehow got his own pest control chemicals in his eyes and I haven't heard from him since he got out of the hospital last week."

I grimaced again. "Ouch."

"Tell me about it." Stephanie stuck another forkful of pancakes into her mouth and chewed. "Joe Morelli got married last month."

"I heard," I said. I bit off a portion of my cinnamon danish. "What's up with that?"

Steph shrugged. "I have no idea. I haven't seen him since the wedding. I went to it, like an idiot. I figured that if I could stand to watch Lauren Marie prance around RangeMan with Ranger's baby growing inside of her, I could certainly muster up the strength to watch Morelli marry Robin Russell. She's such a nice lady, too. And a great cop. But watching both of the men in my life move on without me surprisingly hasn't been the hardest thing to deal with."

"So what has?"

"The fact that _I _have no one to move on to."

"I hear you, beautiful. But let me ask you this: if you would have met the man of your dreams during all this and had fallen totally in love with him, would both of those events have been easier for you to handle?"

"Probably a lot easier."

I sighed. I really didn't know how to help Stephanie other than to continue to be a good friend and a shoulder for her to lean on, which were two things that I knew she really needed at the moment. I knew I could definitely give her both of those but as far as relationship advice and love-talk went, I was probably the wrong guy to seek assistance from.

I peered intently at Steph. "Are you still in love with Ranger?" I asked her finally.

Steph shook her head. "No. True, it did take me awhile to finally accept the fact that all Ranger and I will ever be are just friends. I realized that I'd rather have him in my life as my work partner and close friend than have him vacate my life completely, and he felt the same way. And as for Joe, things between us had fizzled out a long time ago. He wanted me to be something I wasn't, and I'd wanted him to accept that. Which he couldn't. But we're still friends."

"That's good," I agreed, before biting into my danish. "Feelings were mutual for all of you, then."

"Yeah." Steph's eyes filled with tears and she looked down at her half-eaten plate of pancakes. "So then why is this so hard?"

Shit. Time for some damage control. I scooted my seat next to Steph's and took her in my arms to let her get it all out. She snuggled up against my chest and I heard the ID sticker on her boob crackling against my tee shirt, and I stifled a laugh as I put my chin on top of her messy curls. As tired-looking and upset as she was, that sticker picture didn't do her true inner and outer beauty any justice.

I've seen Stephanie at her worst: with hacked-off portions of hair, singed eyebrows due to a chicken grease fire, skin dyed blue from a briefcase bomb, covered in garbage, food, mud, Vaseline, marinara sauce, dog shit, you name it. I've seen her at her best. And hot _damn_ her best was a sight for sore fucking eyes. When her curls were shiny and bouncy and her makeup was flawless, she could stop traffic. Stuff her curvaceous, lithe body into a skin-tight cocktail dress and expect a riot.

But stick a pair of four-inch FMPs on the ends of her mile-long legs and you'll have to call the fucking Marines out here to get things functioning again.

If I haven't said it before, Ranger is a fucking idiot.

I held Steph to me and listened to her little sobs and sniffles. I sighed. I absolutely hated this shit. "Gorgeous," I began softly, smoothing Steph's unruly curls. "Someone who you used to have strong feelings for just had a baby with another woman. And a guy who's been in and out of your love life since childhood just got married. I think it's perfectly okay for you to be pretty bummed out right now. I know I'd be."

"I knew this day was coming but I guess my Queen of Denial crown's been on too tight for the past six months. I just kept forcing everything further and further out of my brain." Steph looked up at me, her big blue eyes shiny and bright. "If it weren't for you and the guys keeping my spirits up, I don't know what I would have done." She threw her arms around my neck and hugged me. "Thank you."

With my finger under her chin, I moved her face so that she was looking up at me again. "Baby, you don't have to thank me. I did it because I care so damn much about you. We all do, Steph. Believe me, this hasn't been easy on us, either. For what it's worth, Ranger's behavior shocked the rest of us just as much as it did you. I mean, come on. She was a client's _daughter_, for fuck's sake. Where the hell was his irreproachable self-control? And how irresponsible do you have to be to accidentally get pregnant these days? There are things you can do to prevent that. Unless precautions are taken, pregnancy is almost always possible. You know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah."

"Look. Ranger's my boss and one of my best friends. All I want is to see him happy and doing what we all know is the right thing. If a relationship with Lauren Marie is what he wants and is what makes him happy, then I'm all for it. Their baby boy is finally here and I'm a hundred percent positive that they'll be great parents. We can all start to move on and finally accept what's happened. I know you'll be hurting for awhile, but that's to be expected.

"No one expects you to just bounce right back from this, Steph. No matter how you look at it, _everyone's_ lives have changed around here, not just Ranger's. Tank, the guys, and I will have a huge responsibility on our shoulders starting on Monday. We're taking over the main business of RangeMan while the Bossman stays at home and plays house. We're counting on you to help us out, Steph."

Steph dried her eyes and nodded. "I will, and you know it. Whatever you guys need from me, I'm game. Distractions, computer searches, monitor duty, surveillance, take-downs, stake-outs. Starting Monday I'm throwing myself into my job so that I can get my life back in order. It's time I start thinking about myself and my own quest for happiness."

I smiled and hugged her to me again. "Damn right, beautiful."

"I'm serious, Lester. You know that I've been doing physical training with Tank and Cal, so I should be able to tackle my skips with more ease. Maybe next time crazy Caroline Scarzolli won't slip through my fingers," Steph muttered.

I laughed before growing serious again. "Give things some time, gorgeous. Everything should fix itself on its own. You have an awesome relationship with the boss right now and I'd hate to see that get wrecked over something stupid. You know he still cares about you and loves you as a friend, in his own way. Things certainly won't go back to being the same as before he met Lauren Marie, but hopefully what's left is a deep and meaningful friendship that you'll both have forever."

Stephanie nodded and we fell silent for a few moments. Finally, she took a deep breath before quietly asking me, "Was I not good enough for him, Lester?"

My fucking heart broke into pieces. How could she even _think_ that? At that moment, I hated Ranger's guts for even_ causing _Stephanie to ponder the thought of being inadequate as a lover or not up to his high, high standards. Because we all knew that she was. In fact, I sometimes thought **she** was too good for **him**.

I sighed. "Beautiful, in my eyes, _he's_ the one who was never good enough for _you_."

Our breakfasts went abandoned as Steph sat slumped against me, sobbing quietly, twirling a rogue brown curl around her finger and periodically bursting into fresh tears. I was fucking _dying_ to wolf down the rest of my danish and sausage, but the position we were in had my back to the table and my fork just out of reach. Besides, how fucked up would it be if I pigged out and left Steph sitting against me, crying? I'd never in a million years do something like that to her. I was going to hold her until every last tear was dried up.

When Steph's sobs died down to sniffles, she croaked, "You can eat, Lester. I hear your stomach growling."

I hesitated. "You sure?"

"Of course." Steph sniffled and pulled away from me, smiling weakly.

"Christ, thank you." I pulled her forehead to my lips for a fast kiss and immediately dug into my sausage and scrambled eggs. Everything was cold, but I was so hungry that I really didn't give two shits.

"I can't wait to get home and scrub away all the sweat and tears of the last few hours in the shower," Steph remarked, blotting her eyes with the paper napkin. "And burn these clothes. My shoes are giving me blisters."

As I chewed cold eggs, I stole a glance under the cafeteria table and checked out Steph's kicks. They weren't even _close_ to being as sexy as the FMPs I loved to see her in, but I'd take them, anyway. They appeared to be some type of boat shoes, brown with little tan laces. They were kinda cute, but they didn't push my sexual buttons or warrant me to want to untie the laces with my teeth, either.

"I see that you're looking at my shoes," Stephanie mumbled. Shit. Busted. She sniffled back a few leftover tears. "My mother calls these my 'birth control shoes.' Maybe Lawn Sprayer sprayed himself in the eyes with his own chemicals on purpose."

I couldn't help but laugh as I handed her another paper napkin to blow her nose. "Hell, no. Any man idiotic enough to stare at your feet longer than the rest of you doesn't deserve a date. And does that guy have a name?"

Steph sniffled into the napkin. "I don't want to tell you what it is. You'll have something to say about it. Lawn Sprayer is fine. Besides, that ship has sailed, Lester."

Seriously? She wasn't going to say what his name is? And all the shit she's got on _me_. "Steph, come on. You know that not too long ago I brought home a chick named Bambi. And that I lost my virginity, at fourteen, to a twenty-one-year-old girl named Crystal Chandelier. Now tell me, what's worse than that? What's the guy's name?"

How Stephanie managed to crack up and still be crying at the same time will forever amaze me. "Fine. It's Ferguson."

Holy fuck. "_Ferguson?_"

"See? I knew you'd have something to say about it."

"Come on, Steph. It doesn't matter, anyway. The poor fella's got bigger problems right now than his name."

Steph grimaced. "Yeah, like if he'll ever regain his eyesight?"

"That would be a pretty huge one." I forked the last bite of cinnamon danish into my mouth and pushed my chair back from the table. I glanced at my watch. It was quarter to six in the morning and I'll be damned if Steph and I weren't the only sorry souls eating breakfast at such an ungodly hour. Several white-coated doctors and green-scrubbed nurses were milling around in the breakfast buffet line, being served hashbrowns, eggs, and strips of turkey bacon.

Bobby, Tank, and Ranger appeared in the seating area's doorway and were loaded down with trays of food. Steph immediately saw them and waved them over to our table before quickly drying her tears. When Ranger sat down next to me, I noticed he had a blue plastic bracelet around his wrist and a special color-photo ID name sticker.

Steph saw it, too. "Hey, how come your ID sticker picture doesn't look like a prison photo?" she asked him, frowning.

Ranger just grinned. "Babe."

* * *

The plan was to drive myself home from the hospital, sleep for about twelve hours, and get ready for my date with this chick I'd met at the bank a couple weeks back. We'd been in the same teller line and had managed to strike up a conversation about pens on a chain before I'd finally gotten the chance to finagle her phone number and a sultry, lustful grin that promised the naughtiest of all dirty things.

Hell fuck yeah.

Her name was Eriana (I think) and from what I'd found out about her at the bank she was a fourth-grade teacher at Trenton Catholic Academy and just the mere _thought_ of her in a school-girl uniform complete with thigh-highs and a ridiculously-short plaid skirt had me practically panting and painfully hard the entire drive back to my townhouse. Sure, I knew teachers didn't actually wear that stuff but at the Lester Santos Non-Catholic Sex Academy, they sure as hell did.

So we were going to Banzai in Hamilton Township for some wine and Japanese food. Me not so much for the wine, but I could definitely go for a juicy, tender filet and a bowl of that special miso soup people I know perpetually seem to rave about.

I didn't give a shit about dessert because if all went well I'd be licking whipped cream off of her luscious body, in my bed, before the night even ended.

I woke up at six and showered and shaved myself to near-perfection. After I threw on some baggy jeans and a white dress shirt, I spritzed on a little of my signature scent and was ready to go. My personal vehicle, a black Cadillac Escalade, sat ready and waiting in my garage when I hopped down the steps. I slid into the seat and started it up before backing out of the garage and down the driveway.

The night was cool and brisk and I was glad I'd kept the sleeves to my dress shirt rolled down. Since Eriana said she'd meet me at the restaurant because she was having a friend drive her there, I figured I'd park and wait for her inside. I went into the lobby and expected to see the usual decor of a Japanese hibachi-style restaurant, and Banzai's Asian atmosphere didn't disappoint.

What I didn't expect to see, however, was Stephanie Plum seated alone at one of the hibachi tables, sipping a glass of ice water and chatting with the chef. What was she doing here? Was she on a date? She didn't mention anything at the hospital earlier. Maybe the Lawn Sprayer got his eyesight back and gave her a jingle this afternoon. Or maybe Geek Squad got a bonus in his paycheck and figured he could afford fried rice and grilled shrimp for two.

Figuring Eriana and I could sit with Steph and her date, I asked the hostess if there was room for two more at Steph's table and she nodded, leading me over to where Steph was sitting. Steph's eyes lit up when she saw me.

"Hey, Les," she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm meeting a date," I said, sitting down in the empty chair to Steph's right and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Me, too," she replied. "Ferguson called me this afternoon. He said his eyes have healed and that he'd like to take me out to dinner, so I said I'd meet him at Banzai at seven-thirty." Steph glanced at her watch. "It's seven-twenty. I hope he gets here soon. I'm starving."

"Eriana said seven-thirty, too," I replied. As soon as the words left my mouth, I spotted Eriana near the entrance, speaking to the hostess. The hostess began leading her over to my table and my heart leapt. She looked _damn_ fine in a black cocktail dress, her short black hair shining in the dim restaurant lighting. She saw me and waved, motioning for the guy who was standing directly behind her to follow.

Huh?

When Eriana seated herself at the hibachi table, the big guy in the black silk dress shirt and black dress pants followed suit.

"Hi, Lester," she exclaimed. She gestured towards the big guy next to her and patted his chest fondly. "I'd like you to meet my boyfriend Dirk. Dirk, this is the guy I was telling you about that I met at the bank a couple of weeks ago. Lester."

"Good to meet you," I said to Dirk, confused. I turned back to Eriana. "I was unaware that you had a boyfriend."

Eriana laughed. "I thought you would have picked up on that when we met at the bank," she chuckled, turning to Dirk. "We're actually looking for someone...together. You see?"

My stomach sank in supreme disappointment. Unfortunately, I did see. "Uh, I'm not sure I'd be into something like that," I replied slowly. "I don't like to share."

"That's too bad, Lester. I think you would have fit in perfectly. We're just looking to find someone to, you know, make our sex life a little more interesting. I figured you might be that type of guy," Eriana said quietly to me.

"What on earth would have made you think that?" I hissed.

"Never mind. It's really okay. It was nice to meet you, though." Eriana stood from her chair and Dirk did the same. "See you around, maybe?"

"I don't think so," I muttered, pissed off beyond belief. Eriana and Dirk shrugged and took off for the exit.

Steph had been quiet the entire time, probably more out of shock than anything else. "Seriously?" she whispered as soon as Eriana and Dirk had walked out. "What the hell was that?"

"I have no fucking clue. All I know is that I'm hungry, and I seriously need to eat _now_. And as long as you're here, I'm doing just that." With that being said, I unfolded my napkin and signaled for the waitress to take my drink order.

"I'm glad you'll at least get to meet Ferguson," Steph said. "I think you'll get along great with him."

I made a face, still sour about how things turned out with Eriana. "Is he coming with his girlfriend?"

"God, I hope not."

* * *

After a quick glance into the lobby and then to the clock on her cell phone, Stephanie sighed dejectedly and set down her salad fork. "Seven forty-five. Crap. This again."

"Are you really all that disappointed?" I asked her.

Steph frowned. "Lester, this is the second time in two weeks that I've been stood up at a restaurant by two different men. But truthfully? No, I'm not all that broken up about it."

"Why don't you call him? Find out where he's at?"

"Nah. I'm sort of glad he didn't show up. Who am I kidding, Lester?" Steph's shoulders sagged. "He isn't right for me, anyway."

"Clearly not," I agreed. "And if you ask me, he's a moron for standing someone like you up. You can do better than Ferguson. Hell, you can do better than Geek Squad, Ranger, Brad Pitt, Tony Romo, Vin Diesel, even the Pope. Listen to me, Steph. I'm telling you, I'm honored just to be sitting here, sharing another meal with you today."

Steph smiled. "Thanks. That means a lot, Lester. You want to know something?" She leaned closer to me and spoke low in my ear. "That Eriana's nuts if she'd rather still be messing around with that other ugly guy than have you all to herself."

I let out a bark of laughter and felt my cheeks heat up. "Damn, that's a serious compliment, Plum. Are you sure _you're_ not trying to get in my pants?" I joked.

"Would I really have to even try all that hard?"

I immediately sobered and hung my head pitifully. "Sadly, no. No effort needed at all on your part."

"Didn't think so." Steph smirked.

The chef began our "food show" and nearly singed off his own eyebrows during an onion volcano mishap. He recovered quickly with an impressive shrimp tail trick and was awarded nervous applause from all seated at our table. When our food had been cooked to near perfection, Steph and I ate in companionable silence until our plates were clean, listening to the witty banter of the rest of our meal mates at the table.

"That was amazing," I said before letting out a discreet burp and coughing to cover it up. I ended up choking on some spit and had to have the waitress rush me another glass of water before I passed out face-first on the hot grill in front of me.

Slick, Santos.

"You all right there, Les?" Steph asked, clapping me on the back.

"Fine," I gasped. "No permanent harm done." I quickly paid both our checks and asked for a cup of water to go, in case I continued to choke to death on the drive back to my townhouse.

Steph said she had to use the bathroom before we left. She rose up from her seat and gave me an amazing view of her perfect, round ass and her silky-smooth legs that emerged from out the bottom of a red cocktail dress. I growled low in my throat and felt my pants tighten.

Down, boy.

"You'll be here when I come out?" she asked me.

"Of course," I managed to choke out.

Steph grinned and headed into the ladies' room, leaving me to my own devices. I checked my phone and saw that I had a text message from Eriana. _Sorry you've decided to miss out, Lester. It would have been fun! -Eriana_

I'm sure as hell it would NOT have been fun, but whatever. I'm not into dudes, and most likely wouldn't be all that into whatever nefarious activities Eriana probably had planned for the evening, anyway. As a Santos male, I'm genetically programmed to charm the pants off of any unsuspecting female who happens to cross my path. And I was not going to let this one little scofflaw get in my way. _Onto the next one _seemed to be my newest and most befitting motto.

Steph sauntered out of the ladies' room and I stood up from the table. "Ready, gorgeous?"

"Ready."

"I didn't see Big Blue in the parking lot when I came in earlier," I commented as we exited the lobby.

She sighed. "It's in the back. I'm hoping someone'll steal it."

I feigned horror. "You can't wish that! What will your grandmother say?"

"I have no idea, but I know I'd be ecstatic. By the way, thanks for dinner. You didn't have to pick up my tab."

"Yeah, but I wanted to." I put my arm around her shoulders. "I'm glad you seem to be doing better since this morning."

"Thanks." Steph smiled up at me. "Have you heard from Ranger? When are Lauren Marie and the baby coming home from the hospital?"

"I didn't personally get a call from him, but he called Tank earlier and Tank called me. Lauren and the baby are fine and they'll be home in a few days. Tank asked how you were holding up, and I told him you'll be okay."

"Yeah. I will be." Steph smiled.

"I know." My cell rang and I glanced at the readout. Bobby. I put him on speakerphone.

"Santos," I barked.

"Guess who Dominguez just spotted hanging out around Steph's apartment building?" Bobby boomed.

"Oprah?" I countered.

"Try again. Munson."

"Wait a second. _Morris_ Munson?" Stephanie interrupted.

"Yep," exclaimed Bobby. "Went FTA again this afternoon. Munson left Steph's parking lot and Hal followed him to a bar on Stark Street. Munson went inside and he hasn't yet exited, so we have good reason to assume he's still in there since his wreck of a car's still in the lot. Dominguez has his eyes on the bar right now, but we need to get Munson out of there quickly before he leaves and we lose him. Plus, the maniac's no doubt armed. Dominguez needs backup."

"Did he violate his probation from the last time he was locked up? They shouldn't have given him a bond this time, then," I said to Bobby.

"The judge gave him one year in jail and ten years of probation for that vehicular manslaughter charge he'd racked up after he ran over his wife. He violated probation and didn't get a bond, but he'd somehow finagled a good attorney and was released for fifty grand after a bond hearing. Some loaded, distant relative of his fronted the five thousand to get him out."

Fucking awesome. "What'd he do this time?" Steph asked Bobby.

"Got his mitts on some white and was picked up for possession with intent to distribute."

"That lunatic skipped out on court a couple years ago and tried to kill me in the middle of the night at my apartment because I reminded him of his dead ex-wife," Steph said angrily.

"I remember that. You shot him in the foot." Bobby let out a bark of laughter. "After he got out on bond the second time, he spread the word around town that you owed him a new pair of sneakers. As to why he was at your apartment tonight, Steph, my guess is either he still wants to kill you or else he wants his new shoes."

"Yeah, well, he still owes me a new couch cushion! Ugh. I can't believe this. Munson hasn't bugged me in two years. Why does he wait until he's FTA again? _And why tonight?_"

I rubbed circles on Steph's upper back to get her to calm down a little. "Get a team together," I said to Bobby. "Let's annihilate this asshole."

"Ten-four. Steph, you up for a distraction tonight?"

"Count me in, Bobby."

"I need you both at h.q. in twenty." Brown disconnected.

I slid my phone back into the front pocket on my jeans and ran my hands through my thick, toussled spikes. Steph was flushed and clearly pissed off, blood-thirsty and vindictive. Finding out that Munson still wanted to tango with her was no doubt messing with her emotions, swinging her wildly through pissed, scared, homicidal, back to pissed again, and finally landing at _don't fuck with me_.

Stephanie stalked towards the passenger's side door of my Escalade in her red FMPs, swinging her hypnotizing hips on the way. She turned to face me and raised an eyebrow. Her eyes were dark and flecks of fire flashed through her dilated pupils. "I suggest you cancel any more plans that you may happen to have this evening, Lester. Because after we bag Munson, you and the guys are taking me out for a drink."

Shit. How could we possibly say no to that?


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, everybody...Thank you for all the amazing reviews! They have truly helped so much. And another huge thank you to Sare, who was kind enough to beta this chapter and offer all of those wonderful suggestions! **

* * *

**Steph's POV**

Swell. Just swell.

Morris Munson, Deranged Madman Extraordinaire, was somehow back in my life. After all I'd been through in the past twenty-four hours, the Gods of Fate still found it fit to deal me yet another shitty hand from Stephanie Plum's Card Deck of Unfortunate Life Experiences.

After seeing Lester Santos meet a beautiful woman for a date and actually end up leaving with yours truly, I knew the universe had nearly grinded to a complete and total halt. But finding out that Munson still wanted to cook up some Filet Mig-Plum was the icing on the Cake of Disaster. Bobby had sounded pretty grim over the phone, and Lester didn't sound much better after receiving the news. I began to wonder just how much combat pay Ranger was allotting his men for the rigorous task of baby-sitting me and keeping me safe. Because Lord knows, they deserve every cent of it.

I was fully aware of the fact that Santos was intently watching me walk ahead of him, towards his Escalade. "I suggest you cancel any more plans that you may happen to have this evening, Lester. Because after we bag Munson, you and the guys are taking me out for a drink."

Lester appeared to be fighting a mental battle and finally cleared his throat before speaking. "Your wish is my command, mami. Do you have a place in mind?" he husked out.

"Any place that makes a decent alcoholic beverage."

The drive back to RangeMan headquarters started out unusually silent and I knew that one of three things was no doubt going through Lester's mind as he slipped into his driving zone and sailed us through downtown Trenton in the Escalade: the first, I was hoping, being everyone's safety as we prepared to apprehend Munson; the second probably being how he'd weasel his way out of mat time with the boss after Ranger found out he and the guys took me out drinking afterwards; and the third (and I'm pretty certain about this) was, no doubt, if he was going to get laid that night and by whom.

I would have liked to think he was contemplating our take-down while he stared silently at the road ahead, but I was leaning more towards the whole "getting laid" thing, since we're dealing with Lester Santos, every woman's wet dream-come-true. As for Ranger using the guys as punching bags on the mats in the morning, I was fairly certain he'd still be at the hospital with Lauren Marie and the baby and too preoccupied to really care what we did on our free time. I was going to have a good time tonight if it killed me, and I didn't give a damn _what_ Ranger thought about it.

Hah. Take that, Bat-Dad.

I finally bit the bullet and decided to ask Lester what was up. "You're quiet," I noted, giving him a coy grin. "What are you thinking about?"

He turned to me and the left side of his mouth curled up into a half-smile. "The take-down." He refocused his attention back on the road and periodically cut his sparkling brown eyes to me.

"Liar. You're thinking about all of us going clubbing afterwards."

"That, too."

I drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "If we can make it through the Munson madness, we'll be golden. I'm sure that we'll **all** need a little cocktail in order to help calm our nerves after we get that lunatic back behind bars."

"Make it a _few_ cocktails and then throw in a couple of beers later on," Lester muttered. He turned to face me again and this time, his expression was serious. "Are you sure you're up for this, Steph? I mean, after all that's been going on..."

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. This'll just be one more foolhardy activity added to my Wheel of Misfortune, that's all."

"Because if you're not feeling up to it, we can always get Jeanne Ellen Burrows -

"Don't you dare."

Lester cracked up. "Just teasing you, beautiful."

"Uh-hunh. Just pay attention to the road, Santos."

* * *

"Obviously I don't need to be all slutted up to distract this guy," I remarked. "Munson can pick me out of a lineup even on my Hair from Hell days. Why don't I just climb into a body bag and make things a whole lot easier for the meat wagon crew?" I blew out a sigh and cracked my knuckles in a nervous gesture.

"Relax, Steph," Tank boomed. "Nothing'll happen to you. We've got your back."

"Yeah," added Bobby. He handed me a wireless mic and waited while I positioned it. "We'll all be outside, and Santos will be inside the bar with you."

I glanced at Lester, who was standing over by his locker in a tank top. He pulled a flak vest out of his cubby and strapped it on before rebuttoning his white dress shirt over it. He caught me looking over at him and tossed me a panty-ruining grin. "Come on, Brown," he said to Bobby. She knows she'll be okay. She gets like this before every distraction."

"I do not!" I protested, but I knew my point was moot. The guys were right; I worried myself silly before nearly every take-down. Not because I was inept at my job, but because the desperados I chased after were becoming increasingly unpredictable and were almost always cutthroat and dangerous.

"Bomber, calm down," Tank said, passing me my Sig and thigh holster. "Everything's gonna be fine." He sounded as if he were trying to calm a distressed woman.

I was quickly becoming one. The more I thought about the awful things Munson would do to me if he caught me off guard and somehow managed to get me alone, the more queasy my stomach felt. The Japanese food I'd eaten earlier wasn't sitting right in my gut and was sliding around in my intestines like goose grease.

I hiked up the skirt of my cocktail dress and turned away from the guys so that I could strap the pistol to my leg. I was glad I would be armed, should the need to blow somebody's head off arise. I velcroed a set of cuffs onto the holster next to my gun and decided to just hope for the best.

"Time's a-ticking," Ram sang out. His voice echoed off the metal lockers and rang in my ears. I was surprised I could even hear him over the blood rushing around in my head from my pounding heart. Tank was right, I needed to relax. I could do this.

Lester lifted up the back of his shirt and jammed a Glock into the waistband of his jeans. "I think we're all ready. Let's roll." He stalked over to the door and opened it for us before we all filed out. "Two vehicles."

We trooped down to the underground garage, and I watched as the guys wired up. Les would be on the inside, with me. Hal was already outside of the bar, waiting on us to show up to provide him with backup. Bobby and Tank would be situated at both entrances/exits, and Vince and Ram would be on standby near Bobby and Tank, ready to wrestle Munson should he be too much for one guy to handle. I reluctantly climbed into the passenger's seat of Lester's Escalade and buckled up.

"What's the name of the bar?" I asked Lester, once we were on the road.

"I think it's called Knifethrowers."

Neat-o.

We pulled to a stop at a very busy intersection with an annoyingly-long traffic light. "So we're doing a take-down at a place called Knifethrowers. Our guy is completely insane, and not to mention armed with God-knows-what. Because he was hanging out at my apartment earlier, we already know that he wants to see me for some reason, if not kill me. I'm going in there as psycho-bait and if I make it out alive, that's IF -

"Steph -

"And, as an added bonus, I'll be -

Suddenly, Lester jammed the Escalade into park, reached over the center console, and grabbed hold of my face. Before I knew what was happening, he had his warm lips pressed hard up against mine, effectively ending any and all speech that may have wanted to escape from my mouth.

It seemed like hours before he finally pulled away, and my Lester-induced incoherent thoughts began to return to normal. "What'd you do that for?" I sputtered. My cheeks felt like they were absolutely blazing with heat and my crotch didn't feel like it was too far from that mark, either.

Lester growled and ran his hands through his thick, tousled spikes. "To shut you the hell up! Look, Stephanie. I know you're nervous, but you're freaking me out with all this talk about psychos and getting killed. All I want to think about right now is bagging Munson and carting him back to the clink. And having us all stay safe and unharmed in the process. I know you can't help but think the worst, beautiful, and I get that. Any other time, I'd be down with being afraid. You have to understand that the guys and I will NOT let anything happen to you tonight. Come on, Steph. You know us. We orchestrate everything _to a tee_. That's one of the things that being in the military taught us. Have faith in us. What we're about to do is no doubt fuckin' scary. But you have to keep in mind that compared to stuff we've all done in the past, this is a cake walk."

"You're right," I said. "I'm sure I'll be fine. I've been trained by the best." My lips curled up in the promise of a smile.

Les sighed and rested his forehead against mine. "I'm sorry if I crossed the line by kissing you, but that seemed like my only option to get you to stop talking. I couldn't see myself yelling at you or putting my hand over your mouth."

"I might have bitten you," I muttered, smiling wryly.

Lester's brown eyes were twinkling in the streetlights as he grinned back at me. "I might have liked it."

_Yowza. _I bit my lip. Since when did Santos and I have naughty innuendo? Well, since forever. But that last comment of his was seeming more and more like a statement of truth than a playful, semi-teasing declaration.

Apparently, the light had turned green and Tank was now honking at us from behind. Lester swore under his breath and yanked the Escalade back into drive. We roared away from the intersection and made a left onto Stark Street. We were now just two blocks away from Knifethrowers and I was suddenly afraid that the Japanese food was going to make an appearance on the passenger's seat of Lester's immaculate ride.

"Maybe I should use the bathroom first," I said, grimacing. Lester immediately put his blinker on and pulled into the parking lot of a CVS.

Tank pulled up beside us and powered down his window. "What's up?" he called to us.

"Steph needs to use the little girls' room," Lester called back.

Awesome. Now all the guys knew I was still seriously nervous. "You could have just told him that I wanted a bottle of water," I hissed to Lester.

He looked slightly guilty before tossing me a knee-weakening grin. "Sorry, beautiful," he said apologetically. "I guess I need a few lessons on modesty."

_A few?_ "Maybe later."

In the CVS bathroom, I layered about ten feet of toilet paper onto the seat and gingerly sat down. Hard to do in a cocktail dress and four-inch FMPs with a gun strapped to your thigh. After about five minutes of nothing, I began to think that my upset stomach was just a false alarm. I sighed. _Shit or get off the pot, Plum. People are waiting on you. _I flushed the tree-load of scratchy toilet paper down and washed my hands for good measure. When I got back to Lester's Escalade, he was messing around with his two-way radio and didn't see me approach the passenger's side.

I knocked on the window. "Hey!"

His face broke into a goofy grin and I heard the automatic locks click open. I climbed into my seat and slammed the door shut behind me. "False alarm," I admitted.

"Damn. I hate when that happens." Lester put the Escalade into drive and we pulled out of the parking lot, Tank close behind.

Knifethrowers was on the corner of Stark Street and Cumby Avenue, flanked by a Jewish deli and video store. Both the deli and the video store were closed at this time of night, but the tattoo parlor and the creepy-looking head shop across the street were alive and thriving. A handful of choppers sat in front of the tattoo parlor and a small throng of inked-up degenerates were milling around amongst the bikes, beers in hand and cigarettes between their broken, yellowed teeth. The chatter and laughter between them ceased as our two black SUVs paraded slowly by and we were awarded lecherous stares and silent obscenities muttered from chapped, rancid-looking lips. Although they had no idea who was inside our vehicles, their thoughts were no doubt immediately gravitating towards _cop_, _security operations_, or _bounty hunters_.

"Looks like we'll have to park down the street," I remarked.

"Looks like it." Lester eased the Escalade into a spot along the side of the road, a few storefronts over from the bar. Tank continued on past us and I watched him round the corner and head to the rear of the bar with Ram, Bobby, and Vince. I spotted Hal's Expedition a couple spots behind us, closer to the front door of the bar.

Lester's cell rang and he answered it on speakerphone. "Santos."

"I haven't seen Munson come out yet," Hal informed Les. "And his beater car is still parked behind me." I craned my neck to get a gander at Munson's jalopy of a Buick Riviera and, sure enough, the rusty thing was sitting directly behind Hal's SUV.

"Ten-four," Lester replied. "I'm gonna give you a radio so that you're in on the take-down. Steph's wired and I'm wired since we'll both be on the inside. The rest of the guys have handhelds at the entrances."

"What do you each have on you?" Hal asked.

"Steph's got her Sig and a set of cuffs. I've got my Glock and a twenty-two strapped to my ankle. And cuffs."

"Ten-four. Lock and load."

"Hooah." Lester disconnected from Hal and turned to face me. "This is how it's gonna work, gorgeous. I'll go in first and let you know what's up. Tank and Ram are gonna come around to the front door and be on standby. Vince and Bobby'll be around back in case Munson decides to use that door as an exit. When I tell you to, come into the bar and go immediately to the back left corner, unless Munson sees you. When you get to the back left corner, I'll be in the back right corner. Order some water on the rocks to make yourself believable. You'll work your magic on Munson as soon as everyone's in position. Got it?"

"Got it."

"All you have to do is get him to either accompany you outside or else chase you outside. We'll handle the rest. I'm sure he won't try to hurt you in a public place, but if he does, you've got me in there with you."

"Okay. Good. I'm ready." I took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Let's get him."

"Thatta girl." Lester presented me with his heart-stopping grin and playfully punched my bare shoulder. Such a contrast to earlier, when he had his mouth pressed up against mine. I was sort of confused, but quickly brushed it off and chalked it up to being exhausted and on an emotional hormone overload.

I spotted Tank and Ram ambling their way from around the corner in the direction of the rear of the bar. Tank put his cell phone up to his ear, and a few seconds later, Lester's rang.

"Santos...yeah, mic-check. Ten-four." Les disconnected and switched on his wireless mic before situating it so that it was comfortable. I did the same with mine and immediately heard Tank's voice in my ear.

"Steph, Santos, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," we replied.

Lester hauled himself out of the Escalade before making tracks for the front door of the bar. My stomach was doing flip-flops as I watched him approach Tank and Ram. They exchanged a few benign words before Les opened the door of the bar and disappeared inside. Shit. This was really happening, and it was happening now.

I heard a bunch of loud chatter and faint music through my earpiece, and I knew that he was approaching the bar. "Can I get a bottle of water?" I heard him ask the bartender. A few seconds later, I heard him speak quietly again. "Steph, Munson's on the dance floor, and if you enter quickly and go straight to where I told you to go, he'll never see you."

"Okay, I'm coming in right now," I replied. I opened the Escalade's passenger door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. After slamming the door shut, I made my way to the bar's front entrance on legs made of Jell-O. I reached out with a trembling arm and pulled the heavy wooden door open. My heart was beating double-time as I peeked into the crowded room. A tacky disco ball was hanging from the ceiling and was casting weird shadows on all four walls. The bar was packed with reeking drunks, and the dance floor was packed with blowzy blondes grinding against even more reeking drunks.

In the center of it all, with a two-toothed brunette wrapped around him, swayed Morris Munson.

"Go to the back left corner," Lester said into my earpiece. The door slammed shut behind me and I yelped, but was unheard over the boom of Led Zeppelin. I quickly scanned the back of the bar and spotted Lester sitting at a small table in the back, sticking out like a sore thumb amidst all of the hairy, overdeveloped greasers. I slunk over to an empty table near the rear of the bar and snagged a waitress for water on the rocks. When she returned with my drink, I watched Lester watch me over the top of my glass. I could still see him smile in the shadows, his perfect white teeth blinding against the darkness of the dive.

I couldn't help but smile back and was thankful that he couldn't see my cheeks redden. The guys were listening into our wires intently, trying to get a bead off of what was going on inside the bar. Whatever I said to Lester, I'd be saying it to Ram, Vince, Hal, Tank, and Bobby.

Munson was happily on his way to oblivion. His dancing partner looked half-dead slumped against him, but Morris didn't seem to care. The song changed to something by Pantera, and I watched as Munson's floozy situated herself behind him and tried to wrap her arms around his middle. Bile rose in the back of my throat when I saw her nibble on the back of his hairy neck. Lester must have seen it, too, because I saw him grimace across the room.

Two songs later, Munson's gal sagged over to the bar for another drink, leaving Munson alone on the dance floor. He was swaying to the music by himself and looked like a total idiot. It was now or never.

"I'm moving in," I hissed. Lester sat up a little higher and instinctively put his hand on the Glock at his waist. I took a deep breath, gathered courage from I don't know where, and teetered to a standing position on my shaky legs. Lester watched with fierce scrutiny as I made my way over to Munson and caught him up in a spin on the dance floor.

Morris was completely taken off-guard. "What the..."

"Hey," I said as brightly as I could manage. "Long time no see!" Where the hell did _that_ come from? I heard someone snicker in my earpiece. Vince, maybe.

Recognition kicked in, and he narrowed his beady eyes at me. "Stephanie Plum," he exclaimed, moving his ugly hips to the beat of the music along with me.

"So I hear I owe you some new sneakers," I said, managing a small laugh.

"You owe me a lot of things, you little bitch," he snarled.

I frowned. "Hey. I'm trying to be nice here and maybe bury the hatchet. Can't we forgive and forget?"

"What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I'm with a friend. We're out for a drink. Would you like to go to Tequila Tequila with us after this?"

Munson spun around so that I was boogying behind him. I heard him speak over his shoulder. "Tequila Tequila? Hell, no. I'd like to take you back to a little place I know of called Your Apartment and have you watch as I shoot off _your_ toe. And then, when you're officially a fucking gimp like I was, I'll hog-tie you to your bed and make you wish you were dead."

"Well, that doesn't sound like it would be as much fun as riding the mechanical bull at Tequila Tequila," I told him. _Yikes._ This guy was seriously demented.

"Of course it doesn't. It wasn't much fun to sit in jail for a year, waiting for my right pinky toe to grow back onto my foot! Which, by the way, still hasn't."

No shit. Toes can't regenerate themselves. I didn't even shoot off his whole toe, just a piece of skin. "You're crazy," I told him.

"Like a fox, Sweetie-Pie."

"Ugh. Don't call me that."

"What would you prefer people to call you, then, other than _that corpse in the morgue?_"

We were starting to attract attention from the other people on the dance floor. Lester was still eyeing me like a hawk with his hand on his gun, ready to leap at the first sign of danger. It was time to take my little skirmish with Munson outside so that the guys could truss him up in cuffs and shackles. My nerves were shot, and I thought I'd caught a glimpse of the butt of a pistol underneath Munson's raggedy tee shirt. There was no telling if he had a knife on him, and I wasn't eager to find out.

"I'm leaving now," I said. "I have to go get my friend. You're insane."

"The hell I'm letting you get away from me," cried Munson, lunging after me. I weaseled my way out of his grasp and ran directly to the front door, Munson close at my heels. Bingo. I pushed the door open and dashed through, and as soon as Munson tried to follow me outside, Tank and Ram had him body slammed onto the concrete, and Ram had his knee between Munson's shoulder blades.

Lester exited the bar and trained his Glock on Munson. "I'm in the mood to shoot somebody's pinky toe off," Lester said in a sing-song voice. Munson's face paled, and he immediately tucked his feet under his bottom as Tank rasped the handcuffs closed around his wrists. Lester laughed evilly and jammed his Glock back into his waistband. He hauled Munson to his feet with his hands under his armpits and tossed him effortlessly up against the side of Hal's Explorer. Les kicked Munson's feet apart and began to pat him down.

Lester found a 9mm Beretta, a butterfly knife, cuffs, and a Colt .45 in the pockets of Munson's cargoes. When the guys had Munson's personal armory spread out on the hood of the Explorer, Hal shackled Munson's ankles and began rooting through the drugs and paraphernalia that Vince had found after a search of Munson's junky car.

"Just couldn't stay outta trouble, could you?" Ram sneered to Munson. He dangled a small bag of cocaine in his face.

"Fuck you," Munson mumbled.

Tank tagged all of Munson's weapons and loaded them up in evidence bags. Vince gathered up the drugs and paraphernalia and put them with the guns, in Hal's Explorer.

"Sorry you won't be able to carry through with your plans to kill me tonight," I lamented, my voice full of false disappointment.

Munson gave me a scathing glare and fire flashed through his angry eyes. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be in this situation right now." He held up his cuffed hands and wiggled the metal for good measure.

"Hey. Don't blame your fuck-ups on me," I said to him.

"I'd like to blame everything on you, you little cu..."

That did it. I saw red. To me, that was the worst word in the English language to call a woman, and there was _no_ way Munson was getting away with using it. I had the barrel of my Sig pressed into his neck quicker than a cat and I spoke low and rough in his crusty ear. "You'll regret what you've just said, Munson. How about I make both of your pinky toes match?"

"Fuck you, you won't do shit -

_Pow. _I shot him in the foot. God help me, I'd just shot Morris Munson in the foot for the second time in my life. I'd shot him in his left pinky toe and blood was now oozing out of the bullet hole in his sneaker.

"Okay, okay," Lester announced, removing the Sig from my grip and guiding me away from Munson before I shot him again. "You got your point across."

"Asshole," I yelled at Munson. He was on the ground, howling in despair about his damned pinky toe.

"I'll get you, Stephanie Plum," was his outraged parting threat. I watched as Tank and Bobby tossed him in the Explorer with his left ankle and foot dangling out the open back window. "Hey. Careful with the foot. I've just been shot, God-dammit!"

"Shut your piehole, Munson," said Vince, exasperated. "You'll live."

Hal got behind the wheel of the Explorer, and Vince and Ram climbed in after him. "Follow us," Hal said to Tank and Lester. Tank and Bobby went around to the back of the bar to collect their SUV and Lester and I stayed behind to acknowledge the noisy crowd that had formed in front of the bar.

"Nothing left to see," Lester announced. "Everybody get the fuck back inside."

The crowd began to disperse and Lester led me over to his Escalade. He leaned me up against the passenger's side door and slid his hand up under the skirt of my cocktail dress, just past my knee. A gush of something hot and wet filled my panties, and suddenly my tongue was too big for my mouth. "Um, Lester, we're in the middle of the sidewalk -

"Relax, Steph." He ripped the Velcro strap of my thigh holster open and detached it from my leg. He held it up for me to see, a funny smile playing on his lips. "I think it's safe to say that you shouldn't carry a gun when you're PMSing."

I was outraged and mortally embarrassed. "I am NOT PMSing."

Laughing, Lester carried my thigh holster and Sig around to the other side of the truck and tossed them into the backseat, along with some other gear. Ugh, I was so disgusted with myself. I was hot and bothered, and it looked as though no one would be doing anything about it anytime soon.

The ride to TPD headquarters was silent. Lester had the radio tuned into a hip-hop station and a good Kanye West song came on. I was too agitated to enjoy it, though. I was angry with Munson and wished I could have shot off a lot more body parts than just his toe. I was exhausted from the day's events and from the morning's emotional rollercoaster. My nerves were shot from doing the take-down, just as they always are after I've had to distract a screwy maniac and lure them out of hiding at a dive bar. And what the hell was up with me and Lester?

Absolutely nothing, I concluded sadly. He was hot and _damn_ sexy, don't get me wrong. But there was something about him that made me feel at ease and comfortable, in a best friend kind of way. Of course, I wasn't sure what was going through _his _head, but I was pretty certain he felt the same way. I think.

Lester broke the silence, as usual. "You're quiet," he said, turning to me and giving me a coy grin. "What are you thinking about?"

I had to smile, because that was exactly what I'd said to him on the way from Banzai to RangeMan headquarters after dinner.

"The take-down."

"Liar. You're thinking about going clubbing."

"That, too."

* * *

Morris Munson: signed, sealed, delivered. He was completely out of our hair, until he decided to fuck up again and get himself arrested. Which wouldn't be any time soon, and I was fairly certain that the "boys" over at East Jersey State Prison would take great care of him.

Don't drop the soap, Munson.

It was a little after midnight when Lester pulled the Escalade along the curb down the block from Elettra, our drinking destination for the night. Tank, Bobby, Hal, Vince, and Ram were all sprawled out across the backseats of the SUV, engaged in a loud discussion of the take-down events and seemingly focusing on my excellent marksmanship.

"Shot that motherfucker clear off his foot," Tank barked. "After I took Munson's shoe and sock off, the damn thing dropped out of his sneaker and onto the sidewalk." The guys hooted with laughter.

"Awesome shot, Bomber," Ram called to me.

"Thanks," I muttered.

Lester put the SUV into park and swung out of the driver's side to feed quarters into the parking meter. "How long?" he yelled through the open windows at us.

"Six hours," answered Bobby. "Just to be safe."

Lester fed twelve quarters into the meter and got back into the Escalade. "Wait a second. Somebody's gonna have to be sober in order to get us home in the morning."

It definitely wasn't going to be me.

Ram spoke up, "I've got a breakfast date in the morning with Veronica. I really don't want to be hung-over while we sit down to fruit and quiche at that tea room in Princeton. With her grandmother."

"She's got you going to a _tea room_?" Bobby said in disbelief. "Man, you're whooped." The rest of the guys grunted in agreement.

"Whatever, bitches," Ram mumbled. "I'll be the designated pussy tonight. Get the fuck over it."

We couldn't argue with that, so we crowded out of the SUV and got in line for the club. The place was packed, and by the time we got inside my ears were ringing, and the beginnings of a tension headache were forming behind my eyeballs. I must have looked a little worse for the wear, because once we were inside Bobby immediately steered me in the direction of the bar, and we both bellied up to the bartender. Bobby ordered us each a shot of Patrón and waited until we were seated at a table before commanding me to "chug it."

Ooookay.

After awhile, "Steph, wanna dance?" Vince asked me. He was standing over me, holding out his huge caramel-colored hand.

I felt my lips form a smile. "Sure."

Vince was an excellent dancer. From the second he'd pulled me onto the dance floor to the second the song ended, I was amazed at his talent. He knew exactly how to move, and I seemed to flow along with him to the beat of the music. I'd had a drink to loosen myself up, so I wasn't so stiff and mechanical-looking. I actually had a lot of fun dancing with Vince.

Next, I hip-hop danced with Bobby and then did a fast Latin dance with Ram. We twisted and spun to a merengue number and by the time the song finished, I was feeling pretty relaxed and a _lot_ less tense.

Surprisingly, it was the dance I shared with Tank that got to me. As we swayed along to a slow Ginuwine song, Tank held me in his protective arms and spoke quietly to me. "You're an amazing woman, Steph," he was saying. "You've grown so much. We're all so proud of you. You've come such a long way, and you've been through a lot. I'm honored just to know you."

Tank's words, of course, caused me to cry, but I knew that I couldn't let the tears fall if I didn't want to look like a raccoon for the remainder of the night. I settled for burying my face into his shirt, and when the song ended, I said quietly, "Thank you, Tank. For everything."

"My pleasure, Ms. Plum." He kissed me on the cheek and drifted off the dance floor, leaving me alone and vulnerable and suddenly feeling very abandoned. I hugged my arms to my chest and felt a chill swirl over me as I stared out into the sea of swaying bodies, illuminated by soft blue lights and moving in time with the beat of the next song.

A tingle shooting up my spine told me that I was very much _not_ alone, and no doubt never would be as long as these amazing, extraordinary men were in my life.

I smelled his intoxicating scent before I even felt him behind me. Warm, soft fingertips gently swept the curls away from my neck and the scorching heat of his lips on my bare shoulder caused fire to flash through each of my million blood vessels. His hands slowly traveled the length of my upper arms, down to my hands, leaving goose bumps in their wake. My head fell back against his rock-hard chest on its own accord, and I felt rather than heard his groan escape. I leaned back against his body and felt his response to me pressing lightly into the small of my back.

God, _yes_, my body was screaming.

When his huge hands smoothed around my waist to rest on my lower hips, his hot mouth brushed the outer shell of my ear as he spoke to me, his voice deep with desire. "May I have this dance, beautiful?"

I turned around in his arms and brought his head down to mine before capturing his full, luscious lips with my own. He kissed me back with a hunger I'd never experienced before. And when I pulled away, I was breathless and gazing into his intense brown eyes. I couldn't help but kiss him again.

"Yes," I rasped against his lips. "But not here."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 of Step Up is finally posted...sorry for the delay! It's been a busy few weeks for me. A huge thank you to my beta, Sare, for her encouragement and suggestions. Another huge thank you to all who have read and reviewed. You're the best, Babes!**

* * *

**Lester's POV**

The overwhelming gagging sensation that usually goes along with swallowing Jägermeister caused me to pound a fist on the table as a double shot of the liquid misery swam down the back of my throat and headed south, into my stomach. I squirmed in the booth seat and squelched back a huge cough.

"Damn. Our boy can seriously hang." Vince smacked a hand down on my shoulder and whipped my empty glass off of the table to give to the waitress. "You want another one?" To my left, Ram was chuckling into his shirt sleeve.

I shook my head. "No way."

"Lightweight."

Now I was many things, but a lightweight certainly wasn't one of them. I fixed Vince and Ram with a silent, dark stare and shifted my gaze to the pile of cardboard coasters resting on the edge of the table. I let my mind wander for several moments and eventually looked back over at Vince. "Seen Stephanie?" I gruffed out.

Vince nodded towards the dance floor. Tank's back was to me, but I could clearly see two tanned, toned arms wound around his neck and a red lace-clad hip poking out from behind his left side. He and Steph shifted their stance as the song wore on, and I eventually could see Steph's entire profile as she swayed around with Tank. She looked as gorgeous as I'd ever seen her, with those mile-long legs of hers brushing against Tank's as they moved together, and her thick brown curls dusting the middle of her back as she tilted her head to stare up at him. She didn't look wasted. I knew she'd done a tequila shot with Bobby earlier, but I wasn't sure what else she'd had to drink since then. I was betting on nothing, and I was damn certain that I was right, too.

The song they were dancing to ended then, and I watched Tank exchange a few words with Stephanie before drifting away from her and disappearing into the crowd of couples as he headed for the bar. Another song immediately started up, and the beat was slightly uptempo. Heavy bass, sultry lyrics. Sexy as _hell_.

_Now or never, Santos_, I thought.

I'd been a spectator for long enough. It was time for me to pick my ass up off the bench and throw myself into the game. I turned back to face Vince. "I'm doing this. I can't fucking take it anymore, man." My voice had turned gravelly, and I sounded weird. Maybe it was from talking so loudly to the guys across the table, trying to be heard over the pulsating music. Or maybe it was a side effect from the alcohol that was now pumping through my veins, slow and sweet, making me burn for the only other person on this planet that knew me better than I knew myself sometimes.

"You sure you know what you're getting yourself into?" Vince said. He had an eyebrow cocked and a hesitant look passed across his dark, Sicilian features.

I nodded once. "I've been ready for this since the beginning of time, Romano." I slid out of the booth seat and pushed myself off from the table.

Stephanie was standing in the middle of the dance floor with her arms wrapped around her chest and her line of vision alternating between the bar and the sea of bodies grinding around her. Couples were dipping and grinding to her right and to her left. I watched as she slowly came alive under the spell the music was casting, transforming into a goddess among women. My heart began to beat faster in anticipation of what I was about to do.

My vision may have been slightly fuzzy, but my thoughts were perfectly clear. I was sick and tired of trying to come up with reasons and excuses for why I couldn't have her. In order to convince myself that she was nothing more than my good friend and partner in crime, I dated endless streams of mediocre women, with mediocre personalities and mediocre looks; with everyday, so-so, unexciting jobs. Fun, but not particularly funny. Pretty, but not all that spectacular. Nice, but not exceptionally kind-hearted.

Not one of those women would_ ever _hold a candle to Stephanie. She wasn't even _close_ to being mediocre. She had the biggest heart out of everyone I knew. She was strong-willed and honorable, dedicated and passionate. Her sense of humor had me practically begging daily for Bombshell Duty, just for the chance to spend the afternoon with her, laughing our asses off at anything and everything as we attempted to save the world from the scourges of Trenton.

And she took the words _sexy as hell_ into a whole new fucking dimension. Christ.

The pounding bass thumped in my ears as I watched Steph turn her head slightly to glance back at our booth. When she saw me standing at the edge of the dance floor, looking at her, I caught a glimpse of a coy grin playing on her luscious lips. She blinked slowly and bit her bottom lip. I knew I was grinning back at her because my cheeks felt hot and tight.

_"I'm a wild boy, y__ou tryin' to tame me, baby...to where I get it from the house, can you keep me faithful?"_

When Steph turned back around, I slowly started to advance toward her on the dance floor. Fuck. I could no longer deny my body the feel of hers wrapped around it. Her curvaceous hips twisted slightly as they found the rhythm of the song. She was the sexiest woman out on the dance floor, hands down. And she was alone, for fuck's sake.

Not for long.

_"Said I'm tryin' get your clothes off, __from what I'm seeing you look so soft...__it's your body, what I'm goin' on, say you ride it, just don't fall off..." _

I went up behind Stephanie and felt her stiffen slightly as my front brushed against her back. She slowly lowered her arms to her sides as my fingers brushed her curls away from her neck. I placed my lips onto her bare shoulder, and the infernal heat radiating from her smooth, bronzed skin nearly scorched my mouth. My hands trailed lightly down her arms, and when her head fell back against my chest and her eyelids fluttered shut, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that she wanted this.

_"Yeah, I done had a lot of women, __they tell me what they can do b__ut can you show me, babe." _

I couldn't help the groan that rumbled its way out of my chest as Stephanie leaned her entire body back against mine. I was hard and ready for her at that point, the bulge in my jeans nestled against the small of her back. She shifted against me and the movement sent daggers of heat shooting down my legs.

God,_ yes_, my body was screaming.

My hands smoothed around her small waist, and I bent my head to speak in her ear, my lips lightly brushing the shell of her ear as I spoke softly to her. "May I have this dance, beautiful?"

Steph turned around in my arms, and when I lowered my gaze to hers, I saw that her sparkling blue eyes had darkened to deep midnight, indicating that she was no doubt as turned on as I was. She slithered her hands into my thick, tousled spikes and brought my head down to hers. Her lips were on mine then, and my self-control snapped as I kissed her back, responding with more than she gave me. Steph's tongue stroked mine as our mouths moved together for endless minutes, our lower bodies pressed tightly together with my hard cock nestled in the juncture between her creamy thighs. Holy fucking God. I have_ never _wanted a woman so badly in my entire life. I couldn't believe this was happening.

She finally pulled away and gazed at me for a few seconds before quickly kissing me again. "Yes," she rasped against my lips. "But not here."

I fisted my hand in her curls and kept her face up to mine with my free hand. I stared down at her, searching her expression for the hint of a smile or an upward tug of her lips. Some indication that this was all just a big joke or a crazy dream. When no laugh escaped her throat and no playful grin graced her full lips, I shut my eyes, overcome with disbelief that this was actually happening, and ran my face along the smooth curve of her neck. Steph melted into me and a tiny moan from her throat filtered into my ear.

"Christ, you're amazing," I husked against her pulse point before pressing my lips to it.

Stephanie suddenly shifted her hips so that her lower half rubbed forcefully against mine. The unexpectedness of her actions caused me to hiss and grind even harder against her. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and groaned before clenching her teeth together and gritting out, "Lester. Take me home."

"Fuck _yes_, mami," I breathed out.

That was all it took for me to nearly lose control. Within seconds, I had her hauled off of the dance floor and the fingers of her right hand tightly entwined with mine**. **We approached the booth where Bobby, Tank, Hal, and Vince were sitting, each with a bottle of beer in their hands and looking pleasantly buzzed. Ram was sipping water on the rocks and was eyeing Bobby's Corona with extreme jealousy. I was guessing that none of them saw me dancing with Stephanie, since no comments were made as they watched her and I approach the booth. I'd let go of Steph's hand once the guys were within view, and she was fiddling with the rings on her hands as we sidled up to the booth and leaned over the table.

"Hey," Stephanie announced to the guys, over the boom of the music.

"'Sup, baby?" Bobby crooned. "Ready for another shot?"

Steph smiled and shook her head. "I'm good, thanks."

Enough small-talk. "Um, it looks as though we're going to be leaving now," I said to the guys, cutting directly to the chase. I eyed Vince and nodded once to him, and he nodded back with a knowing expression. He smirked and gave me a discreet thumbs-up.

"By 'we', I hope you _really _mean you, the girl you've obviously been with this whole time, and that semi-hard-on you're sporting. Because I'm not ready to hit the road yet," Tank boomed. Hal and Bobby each nodded their heads in agreement.

"You picked up a chick?" Ram wanted to know, turning to me.

"Yeah," I replied. I jerked a thumb in Steph's direction and snorted with laughter. "And Steph here hooked up with some guy and wants to take him back to her apartment."

"So we'll be taking a cab," Steph concluded, smiling. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, boys."

I grinned smugly. "You're more than welcome to stay as long as you like, gentlemen." I chucked my Escalade keys to Ram and placed a hand on Stephanie's lower hip. "Miss Plum and "some guy" have a pressing engagement." I pulled her face up to mine and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss directly on her lips. She looked up at me and bit her bottom lip before turning back to the guys.

"Yeah." Steph threw the gaping, red-faced, wide-eyed RangeMen a saucy grin and winked. "Don't wait up, guys."

With that, I began to lead her away from the table with a hand to the small of her back. Several amused hoots and hollers flowed in our direction. I even thought I heard an, "It's about damn time!" and a "Finally!" as we walked away. I smiled down at Stephanie, and she returned my grin as we made tracks to the exit doors.

Several cabs were parked out in front of the nightclub, waiting to chauffer the drunken club-goers straight to their beds after an evening of hitting the bottles. Since we were out of eyeshot from the guys, I took the liberty of backing Steph into the wall adjacent to the exit doors and using my hips to plaster her lower half against the brick.

"God, I've wanted this for so long," I managed to grit out as I pressed my hands flat against Steph's hips and smoothed them up her back.

As I entwined my hands in her curls, my mind was whirling out of control. I never thought I'd ever get to be like this with Stephanie and actually have her reciprocate the feelings. She had my hips firmly in her hot little hands and was grinding her amazing body against them. With my back to the sidewalk I couldn't actually see anyone watching us, but I felt several pairs of eyes boring into the back of my head. A couple of quick whistles and a rather crude, slurred statement from a shit-faced gentleman confirmed my suspicion that we had an audience.

"Me, too. I almost don't care that we're giving everyone a show," she breathed, a hint of a smile in her voice. "Should we start charging them?"

I snorted with laughter and gave her neck a firm bite, making her moan. "Fuck, no. The only person who gets to see you naked tonight is me." I palmed one of her tight, luscious ass cheeks and gave it a squeeze. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Laughing, Steph scooted out of my arms and led me over to the string of cabs that were waiting by the curb. We selected one, and I opened the back door for us but before we could climb into the backseat, a bearded man in a checkered wool shirt and suspenders hobbled up to the crowd near the nightclub exit doors and whistled loudly through two of his fingers. Off in the distance, a car alarm that sounded vaguely familiar was blaring away and several drivers were honking their car horns. I noticed that traffic was backed up on the street, right in front of the club.

"Somebody own a black Cadillac SUV parked a few blocks over, in front of the diner?" the guy hollered, after nearly deafening us all with his eardrum-piercing whistle. A few clubgoers shrugged and shook their heads. Several others replied 'no' and 'not me.'

My stomach flip-flopped. I let go of Stephanie's waist and motioned to the cab driver to give us a second. I slammed the cab door shut and together Steph and I approached the bearded man. "Wait a second. I do," I said to him warily. "An Escalade?"

The man turned to me and grimaced when he saw that I towered about a foot over him and outweighed him by close to forty pounds. "Well, now it's kind of a Mess-calade. Sorry, but I thought I'd cleared it when I backed out of my spot. I smashed right into the front end. You'd better come take a look." He glanced up at me and I thought I saw him grimace again. "I do apologize, young man."

Sure enough, my car alarm was wailing away and my crumpled, accordion-like bumper was lying dead near the sidewalk, like roadkill. My front left rim was bent up similar to a piece of origami and the chrome grill and hood were smush-city. One of the headlights was hanging on by a single wire, dangling just above the road like a giant yo-yo. I wanted to cry.

"Call Ram," I said on a sigh, turning to Stephanie. "I'll need my keys back."

Steph whipped out her cell and began dialing. When she'd gone to stand a few feet away to hear Ram on the phone over the wailing alarm, I got a good look at the rig that smashed my truck to smithereens. It was a Ford F-350 diesel dually, jacked up on monster truck tires and looking as if it didn't have a scratch on it.

Because it fucking didn't.

"Why isn't your truck damaged?" I asked the guy.

He shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe 'cause it's a Ford."

Hunh.

"I hope you have insurance," I gritted out. If he didn't, I swear to _God_ that I was going to take the baseball bat in my trunk to his windsh -

"Luckily for you, I do," he replied. He handed me a business card with some numbers written down on it. "I've got Allstate, so you're in good hands." He chuckled at his own bad pun.

"Yeah," I muttered. I looked back at my truck and saw Stephanie approach me out of the corner of my eye.

"The guys are heading out of the club," she reported, above all the racket. "It looks like we'll all be taking cabs at some point tonight."

I turned my head to look at her. "Beautiful, I know that you probably don't want to hear this right now, but I think I've completely lost my erection." I shifted my gaze back to my once-flawless vehicle and felt my heart contract painfully.

Steph stared over at the wreckage and sighed. Just then, my headlight lost the gravity battle and smashed onto the street, busting into pieces and startling us both. "Same here," she agreed.

* * *

The twenty-four hour diner four blocks over from Elettra served really greasy burgers and artery-clogging cheesecake, so I figured it would be the perfect place for Steph and I to wait for the tow truck to show up outside at the curb. From where I was sitting, I had an okay view of my Mess-calade. I was trying hard not to look at it, but it was just as difficult as trying not to stare at someone with every single one of their teeth blacked out and a huge cold sore busting out of their top lip.

I watched as Steph slathered strawberry mish-mash over her piece of New York-style and forked a huge bite into her awaiting mouth. "Mmmmmm," she moaned, her mouth full. "So good."

Was it okay to be jealous of a piece of cheesecake? I decided that it was and squirted ketchup all over my burger. "Sorry about all this," I said to her. I cut my burger in half and took a bite.

Steph waved me off. "Lester, it's fine. I mean, it's not fine, but you know what I mean. I'm just glad that guy's insurance is going to take care of all this. They'll tow your car to the body shop and fix it, free of charge to you. You've got a claim number and a copy of the police report. The wrecker's on its way. Stop worrying."

Easy for her to say. Her cars were always being blown up. I glared at Steph and suddenly, she burst out laughing.

"They are_ so _not always being blown up, Lester. I know what you're thinking."

I had to laugh. "Fine. Stolen, firebombed, flattened to a pancake, repo-ed, hi-jacked, rocket-launched, squirrel-bombed, potato-gunned, graffitied, vandalized..."

It was Steph's turn to glare. "Firebombed is pretty much the same as being blown up. And for the record, my apartment was firebombed, too. Not just my car. So there."

I continued to stare at Stephanie incredulously.

"Okay, so it's weird that_ anything _of mine has been firebombed, hunh."

I nodded. "A little bit, yeah."

Steph sighed, resigned. "I guess this day was just going too well for us," she said angrily. "It feels like Ranger's son was born a year and a half ago. Seriously, is it still Friday?"

"Nope. Now it's Saturday." I took another bite of my burger and tried to give her a cute smile, but I think I failed miserably, with all the mashed bun and ground-up cow stuck in between my teeth. "It seems like all you and I ever do is eat together."

"Why do you think that is?"

I shrugged. "Wrong place at the wrong time, maybe?"

Stephanie smiled and looked up from her cheesecake. "How about right place at the right time?"

She was so beautiful. I took her left hand and placed an open-mouthed kiss to her palm. I grinned. "I like that better."

The idling of a diesel truck motor outside the storefront diner broke me from my thoughts and I let go of Steph's hand. I craned my neck to see out of the diner's plate glass window and, sure enough, Tiny Ted's Towing had arrived to cart my wrecked Escalade off to car heaven. Or the body shop. Whatever. Damn technicality.

I tossed a twenty onto the table and motioned for Steph to follow me out the door as soon as she'd finished her last bite of cheesecake. Outside, we approached a six-foot-four, three-hundred-pound behemoth wearing a tee shirt advertising Tiny Ted's Towing.

"You Lester Santos?" he barked to me, once Steph and I came to stand beside him.

I nodded. "Are you Tiny Ted?"

The guy smiled humorlessly. "Hunh. Funny." He rolled his eyes and whipped a carbon copy form off his clipboard. "Sign here." I took his pen and inked my signature near the bottom of the form. The guy handed me my copy and set to work. He tossed my mangled bumper into my backseat and hooked my truck up to a hydraulic lift. Several minutes later, my truck was ready to be transported. The guy climbed into the wrecker's cab and lit a cigarette.

Steph and I walked over to the open window and looked up at him. "Where are you taking it?" I asked Tiny Ted.

"At three a.m.? Back to my tow-yard. At nine tomorrow? Coleman Cadillac Buick GMC Body Center in Lawrenceville." The guy tapped his cigarette near Stephanie, causing a few rogue ashes to fly into her face. She grimaced and wrinkled her nose as the guy said, "Enjoy the rest of your night." With that, he roared off in his wrecker, dragging my poor, desolate SUV along behind it.

Stephanie put an arm around my waist and leaned her head on my shoulder. "It'll be okay," she soothed. "It'll get fixed. I know how you're feeling right now. Believe me, I've been there."

I turned to Steph and gathered her into my arms. "I'm not nearly as pissed off about my truck as I am about having our night together ruined."

Steph smiled against my neck. "I hear you."

"Yeah."

We sauntered down the sidewalk back towards the nightclub and the line of waiting cabs, hand in hand. She looked over at me and grinned. "Where have you been all my life, Lester Santos?"

I smiled back and let out a bark of laughter. "I've been right here, mami." I brought her hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

* * *

We walked in companionable silence until we reached the front of Elettra, letting our joined arms swing freely as we strolled together. It felt good to be this way with her. Almost natural. It was comfortable. She looked over at me and smiled warmly again, letting me know she was just as at ease.

Stephanie sighed as we approached the cabs. "The Buick is still at the Japanese restaurant," she said. "I suppose we should tell the cab driver to take us back to Banzai."

"That works," I replied. I opened the back door of the nearest cab and helped Steph crawl into the backseat. I slid in after her and slammed the door after us.

"Where am I to be taking you to?" the cabbie asked us in a very thick accent, from his perch on the front seat.

"Banzai, in Hamilton Township," I replied.

The cab driver shook his head in annoyance and jammed the taxi into drive. "Thees place, Banzai. I can never eat at that restaurant weethout getting seeck. I oolways eat way too much." With that, he stomped his foot on the gas pedal, whipping all of our heads back against the headrests.

Steph and I shared an amused grin after checking ourselves for neck damage. "Sucks to be him," she whispered to me with a snicker.

"Yeah, it does," I agreed. I pulled her face to mine and pressed a gentle, tentative kiss to her lips. I looked questioningly into her eyes and waited for her reaction to what I'd just done.

Steph rolled her eyes and smiled wickedly before launching herself at me and proceeding to kiss me into a stupor. She shoved her hot, soft tongue between my lips and groaned, making me momentarily forget how to breathe as our mouths slid together passionately. When we came up for air, she gasped out, "What, you think that just because our moment in the club has passed that I don't want you anymore? You're crazy, Santos."

I tried to catch my breath and laughed aloud, totally relieved. "But I'm cute-crazy, though, right?"

"Try sexy-as-hell-crazy." Stephanie leaned back so that she was lying across the backseat and pulled me down on top of her before situating my hips between her silky bare thighs, all the while getting thrown around the cab and whiplashed by our driver with the lead foot and irritable bowel. She brought my face back down to hers and kissed me again, this time keeping the motions slow and deep as we tasted each other's mouths and became turned on to the point of insanity.

I was just about to move my hand to the lacy waistband of her panties when, "No hulluh-hulluh in my cab," came barking from up front. "Thees is a taxicab, not a brothel. If you want hulluh-hulluh, I will drop you off at Motel Seex just up the road."

No way was I slipping in between the nasty, parasite-ridden sheets at Motel "Seex" with Stephanie. It was either my bed or hers, but the way I was feeling at that moment I would have also considered the backseat of a cab. I snickered into Steph's neck so that our guy wouldn't hear me and I felt her quaking with laughter beneath me.

I cleared my throat and spoke up, "Sorry, sir. We'll stop." I lightly bit Steph's earlobe before righting myself and pulling her up with me.

"Yeah," Steph added. "We'll behave."

"Good." The cabbie pulled into the deserted parking lot of Banzai and slammed on the brakes, nearly causing Steph and I to go flying through the windshield. "Lots of babies have been made een the backseat of my cab at one point een time. I myself prefer to not mate een such a disgustingly-public place, so I get my wife and we go to the -

I immediately tossed a wad of cash up front and yelled, "Thanks for the ride! Have a good night!" before he could finish his statement. I _really_ didn't want to hear the rest of it, and probably neither did Stephanie. I shoved her through the door of the cab and hauled ass behind her before slamming the cab's back door shut and dragging her away from it. The cabbie roared off, leaving us in a cloud of exhaust fumes.

"I think you gave him way too much money, Lester," Steph said. "He only drove us a few miles."

"Think of it this way. I paid him to_ not _hear the end of his statement. You should be thanking me." I put my arms around her waist and ran my face down her cheek and into the curve of her neck, placing little kisses along the way.

"Mmmm. You're off until Monday, right?" Steph managed to grit out once my lips hit her pulse point.

"Yeah." My hand slid around to her butt and I pushed her lower half into mine. She rubbed herself against me and clutched the back of my head as I laved her neck. "And if I wasn't, I'd be calling out "seeck" anyway."

We finally managed to make it around to the back of the restaurant, where the Buick was parked. Steph fished around in her purse for the keys and, once she'd located them, unlocked the driver's door and slid in. She unlocked the passenger's side door for me and laughed as I climbed into the mammoth front seat.

"What?" I said, narrowing my eyes.

Steph continued to chuckle. "Nothing. It's just seeing you in Big Blue is pretty fucking hilarious." She cranked over the engine and yanked the bulbous beast into reverse. She craned her neck to see behind her and when she thought she'd cleared the curb, she proceeded to put the car into drive and we hogged out of the parking lot.

"Beautiful, this definitely isn't the kind of car a woman like you should be driving." I grimaced and looked around at the interior, feeling a bit like I'd gone back in time to a sock hop and expecting the Rat Pack to emerge from the backseat at any second.

"Okay, so it's not an Escalade," she said haughtily. "Or a Lexus. But it gets me safely from point A to point B."

"That's true. And, hey. I hardly ever drive the Lexus." My vehicular wet-dream usually stayed put in the other half of my garage, only being brought out when the mood and weather called for a little wreckless speed and sexy agility. It was obsidian black and caused women to have orgasms on the spot. Or at least I'd like to think so.

Steph rolled her eyes and smiled. "Where are we going?" Steph asked me, once we were on Hamilton.

"I have to stop by RangeMan to get the paperwork on Munson out of my office so I can work on it over the weekend. And then, I'm kidnapping you." I scooted closer to her and placed my lips next to the shell of her ear. "Until further notice."

Stephanie sighed loudly and squeezed her thighs together. She jerked the wheel to the right and growled angrily, while I chuckled triumphantly. "I'm trying not to wreck here, Lester," she ground out. She suddenly burst into laughter when I began biting her ear. "Stop!"

"Fine, fine. I'll be good." I settled back onto the Buick's bench seat and examined the shiny white vinyl on the door panels. "This thing is a real piece of work. I feel like heading over to the soda fountain and putting a quarter in the jukebox to hear _Jailhouse Rock_."

Steph snorted with laughter as she rounded a corner, using both arms to steer. "Only you would think of doing something like that, Lester." She slowed her speed when we approached the Haywood garage entrance and exchanged a wave with Manny as we passed under the guard gate.

"Pacheco hates the graveyard shift," I commented as we rolled through the garage, the Buick's engine echo blasting off the cement walls. "I'm surprised he waved back at you."

"Who can resist a chick in a muscle car?" Steph laughed. She pulled to a stop in her special reserved parking space and cut the engine. "I know this is crazy, but I'm not tired at all. Are you?"

I shook my head. "Nope. I slept for nearly twelve hours today. The last thing I want to do right now is go back to bed."

"I hate to break it to ya, Les, but I'm dragging you back to bed as soon as we get to your house." Steph grinned wickedly and winked. I groaned as my pants tightened again. We simultaneously exited the Buick and met around near the trunk. She plastered herself up against me and my arms instinctively went around her neck as I pressed a kiss to her lips.

"Let's make this quick," I said softly against her lips. "Come on. Upstairs." I took her hand and led her over to the elevator, passing Ranger's black Cayenne on the way.

"Hunh," Steph remarked, eyeing the black SUV. "I thought I saw this parked out in front of the hospital earlier this morning. You don't think he's here, do you?" she asked me.

I shook my head. "No way. He's definitely still at the hospital." With that, Steph and I entered the elevator and I hit the button for two, where my office was located. We kept our hands to ourselves on the elevator because I knew that Cal and Junior were both on the monitors at that moment and would no doubt see us through the tiny camera in the corner.

We got off on two and I led Steph over to my office. I unlocked the door and flipped on the light switch before rooting around on my desk for Munson's file. When I located it, I shut off my light and locked up again. I joined Steph out in the hall. "Ready, beautiful?" I asked her, smiling.

Steph bit her bottom lip and nodded, returning my grin. I pulled her up against me and brought her lips to mine with a hand to the side of her face. I kissed her, slow and deep, until she was squirming impatiently against me and whimpering into my mouth. A commotion to my left caught my attention and both Steph and I turned to face the Control room door.

To my absolute horror, Ranger and Tank were now standing outside of the open Control room door. Ranger had his cell phone up to his ear and was glaring murderously at me. Tank, still in his clubbing outfit, was grimacing and staring at the floor. At that moment, I'd have bet a million bucks that Tank was wishing he was worm food.

"Let me call you right back," Ranger barked to whoever was on the other end of his call. He snapped his phone shut and stalked toward Stephanie and I. We'd broken apart as soon as we spotted Tank and Ranger, and Steph was looking like she'd rather be on a one-way raft trip to the Turks and Caicos than standing next to me at the moment.

"What are you doing here?" I asked Ranger. "It's after five in the morning. Why aren't you at the hospital?"

Ranger looked fucking exhausted. He had dark circles under his eyes, his hair was mussed, and he had a blue hospital bracelet fastened around his wrist and his ID sticker picture still stuck to his tee shirt. Clearly he'd been asleep on the pull-out "father's bed" in Lauren Marie's hospital room before he got to h.q. "Got a call about a security breach on one of the accounts," he replied darkly, crossing his huge arms over his even huger chest. "It's settled now."

"Oh, good," I replied lamely, for lack of better words.

Ranger glared back and forth between Stephanie and I before finally saying quietly, "I want the two of you in my office. Now." He turned on his heel and began heading down the hall, towards his suite.

Shit.

* * *

**Will Steph and Lester _ever_ get to have their night together? LOL Stay tuned for Chapter 5!**

**** Italicized song lyrics are from Usher and Jay-Z's _Hot Tottie. _Cab driver's _hullah-hullah_ stolen from MadTV's Depressed Persian Towtruck Man (YouTube him, he's hilarious!)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello loves...**

**C****hapter 6 of Step Up is officially here! It's kind of a long chapter, but well worth the read. As always, thank you for your reviews and emails! And a very big thank you to Gaelyn (Cokkii) for her fabulous beta-ing skills and her wonderful input and suggestions. Glad to have you on board, babe! Now onto the show...**

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* * *

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**Steph's POV**

If I'd suddenly been given the ability to crawl underneath carpeting and somehow vanish, you bet your ass I'd be doing just that as soon as those words escaped Ranger's mouth. I watched him lope down the hallway towards his office, like a big, graceful, dangerous cat. I knew Ranger well enough to expect a quiet but stern lecture on company dating policy and maybe a rueful sentence or two about me seeing one of his core team members and long-time close friends, but that telltale inkling in my woman's radar was telling me that Les and I might not get off that easy.

Speaking of _getting off easy_...I was near certain that it wouldn't be a daunting, troublesome task for sexy Lester Santos to bring me to orgasm and simultaneously wreak delicious havoc on my practically-virgin body. I'd fly off the ledge with _one touch _from his hot, wet tongue.

Getting back to the abomination at hand, I was beginning to wish that I could miraculously call up a genie and demand three wishes; the first being _Get me the hell out of here!_ and the second being, without a shadow of a doubt, _Get me a Santos-Induced Orgasm STAT._ In a perfect world, that would be my first wish, hands down. But desperate times called for desperate measures. Ranger had looked disgusted just now, and I wasn't really all that anxious to hear what he had to say to Lester and I. I was assuming that he was worked up about our kiss, but for some reason I really wasn't feeling all that guilty about having Mr. I-Just-Had-A-Baby-With-A-Client's-Daughter see me making out with Santos.

Come to think of it, maybe my third wish should be for a new vehicle. A Mercedes, maybe. Or how about just something actually from this decade that didn't corner like a refrigerator? I'd even be okay with a crotch rocket. At least it wouldn't scream "Property of The Fonz" or "Honk if you can see up my poodle skirt!"

Anything would do, as long as it was fast. Because as soon as my first wish of "_Get me the hell out of here!_" was granted, the tires would be smoking as I burned rubber out of the underground garage and far, far away from the Wrath of Manoso.

In theory, feigning sick and pretending to vomit into the hall trashcan _might _work. But having Ranger actually buy it was a totally different issue. Batman could smell a deceitful act from miles away. The Man of Few Words had quickly morphed into The Man of Frightening Words in a matter of minutes. It's never a good thing when your boss demands that you join them in their office; especially when your coworker is your partner in crime.

"Let's get this over with," Lester mumbled. He nudged my arm to get me moving and together we fell into step as we headed down the hall.

"I think I'd rather stick a needle in my eye than hear what he has to say to us," I whispered to Les.

"Oooh. Sounds too painful. Now if it were me? I'd rather go get a root canal without any laughing gas." Lester shuddered. "That I can handle. A needle through the eyeball is just overkill. Not to mention crazy."

"Not if it gets me out of Ranger's speech, it isn't."

Lester sighed. "Touché, beautiful."

We entered Ranger's office one by one, with me going in first and Lester quietly slipping in once I'd seated myself in one of the guest chairs.

Ranger was sitting in his desk chair, eyeing us both with a disappointed regard. Lester sat down in the seat next to me. His jeans rubbed against the leather of the chair, causing a squeaking sound to break the uncomfortable, eerie silence. Calm before the storm. That's how it always goes. Creepy quietness before the wrath lets loose. Probably I was reading too much into it, but with Ranger, you never knew.

"I heard about the Munson takedown," Ranger began quietly, peering at me through thick lashes. "You want to tell me what possessed you to shoot him in the foot?"

Hunh? "This is about the takedown?" I asked him, stunned. "I thought this was about me and Le –

"No. It's not." Ranger clasped his hands together and put his elbows on his desk blotter. "Now, tell me. Why did you feel it necessary to cap Munson out on the sidewalk in front of Knifethrowers?"

I glared at him sullenly from my seat across his desk. "Why don't you ask the guys?" I said. I knew the tone of my voice had _attitude problem _written all over it, but I was beyond caring. How dare him call me out on this!

"I don't want to ask the guys. I'm asking _you_. Besides, the only thing the guys have told me so far is that Munson is safely behind bars with a newly-amputated toe. I figured that tonight's tarsal removal had to be the handiwork of the great Stephanie Plum. The last time he lost a toe, you were the one to blow it off his foot." Ranger engaged me in a stare-down that lasted all but ten seconds. "Well?"

I blew out a resigned sigh. "He called me the "C" word."

Ranger nodded slowly, in disbelief. "He called you the "C" word," he repeated incredulously.

"Okay, so I was a little offended by that," I admitted, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. Where was he going with this? I snuck a look over at Lester and found him staring silently at his hands. And what the hell was with the whole cat's-got-my-tongue act? The mood needed to be lightened and Lester was usually the one to do it. For once, he's got nothing to say when I needed his ridiculous joke-cracking skills the most.

Ranger dropped his elbows and sat forward in his seat. "A _little _offended? Sounds like you were a_ lot_ offended. Stephanie, under no circumstances are you to shoot an FTA just for the hell of it. Even if they happen to get under your skin by making a rude remark. Especially in a public place, with witnesses watching. There are other ways to handle lewd comments that don't involve bullets."

I scoffed. "I almost_ never _shoot people. And besides, you didn't seem to care much when I shot him two years ago, in my apartment," I pointed out.

"Because you were one-on-one with him and he was trying to hurt you. He was already detained and in cuffs when you pulled the trigger this evening. Several people standing outside the bar saw you exchange words with Munson and then shoot him. The wrong pair of eyes could have seen you, and RangeMan would be in the middle of a legal battle all because you got a PMS attack and fired a gun at somebody after being called the "C" word."

"I am **NOT** PMSing," I exclaimed angrily, for the second time that night. What the fuck was with everybody? Aunt Ruby wasn't due to arrive for another two weeks! This was getting ridiculous.

"Whatever," Ranger said on an exasperated sigh. "It doesn't matter if you are or not. One of RangeMan's FTAs is sitting in jail with an injury that was wrongfully inflicted by an employee and unfortunately I can't stand by and let this go unnoticed."

Uh-oh. My heart leapt and my stomach sank. "So what happens now?" I asked.

Ranger narrowed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. "I'll have to place you on a temporary suspension," he said finally. "Until I can be sure that there won't be any ramifications that stem from this incident."

I felt my eyes filling rapidly with tears. Beside me, Lester stiffened and sucked in a breath of air. "But why?" I blubbered. Awesome. I was now crying in front of both Ranger and Lester, with big black mascara-tears rolling down my cheeks and my nose probably reddening to Rudolph quality.

Ranger's eyes softened and he lowered his voice when he spoke. "Steph, I said temporary," he said, passing me a Kleenex. "How would it look if I let you off the hook without a second glance? All of my men would think it would be okay to blow off an appendage the next time a skip gave them a hard time. I have to treat your situation the exact same way I'd treat an error made by any of the other employees. If not, I might lose control over my staff and possibly watch my company fall to the ground. Surely you could understand."

Suddenly, Lester shoved back his chair and towered over Ranger's desk. His nostrils were flaring, and his chocolate eyes were dilated black in anger. He pointed a finger in Ranger's face and hissed, "This is bullshit. You have no real reason to suspend Stephanie. Did you even tell her that she did a perfect job with the takedown? That she came through for the company, once again? I must need to have my hearing checked, because I sure as hell didn't catch you saying any of that."

Ranger seemed annoyed at Lester's outburst, but he turned to me and said, "You did a good job tonight, babe. Proud of you."

I blotted tears away with my gray Kleenex and said nothing to Ranger in return. I looked up at Lester and prayed that he wouldn't reach across Ranger's desk to strangle him. Which was sounding more and more, to me, like an excellent idea. I couldn't remember being this angry with the Man in Black in a long time.

"No, she fucking didn't do a _good_ job," hollered Lester. "She did a _great _job. Munson was a high-bond skip. Vinnie would have been out fifty grand if it weren't for Stephanie tonight. Not to mention the fact that you'd have been out five. So what if she shot the guy in the foot? Everyone outside of the bar who saw her do it actually clapped afterwards."

Ranger's eyes narrowed again and he stood up to face off against Les. "Her actions went against company policy, Santos," Ranger said quietly. "And who are you to question my judgment or how I run my company? Remember,_ you _work for _me_. If you have a problem with the way things are done around here, then I suggest you calm the hell down and start speaking to me with a little more respect."

"Fuck respect," Lester spat. "You know damn well that the guys wouldn't think it'd be okay to just go around shooting FTAs just because you let Steph off the hook. Hell, they were all proud of her! That asshole deserved to have a lot more body parts shot off than just his toe, and I'm only sorry I took the gun away from her before she had the chance to shoot off his dick!"

Ranger was seething. "Santos, you're working your way off of my core team by talking to me like that," Ranger ground out. "I suggest you -

Lester was now nose-to-nose with Ranger and angrier than I'd ever seen him. "Here's what I suggest _you_ do," he hissed in a low voice. "Think twice about suspending Stephanie because if she's not sitting in her cubicle come Monday morning, you'll have one less guy on your payroll."

"Is that a threat, Santos?" Ranger barked, red with anger.

Lester's face was mere millimeters from Ranger's. "No. It's a fucking promise."

"You're more than replaceable," said Ranger. "In fact, there are a number of ex-military security specialists who have applications sitting up in H.R. Any one of those guys is more than capable of filling your shoes."

Lester toed off his boots and tossed them behind Ranger's desk. They thumped hard against the wall and bounced to a stop at Ranger's feet. "Then start filling."

With that, Lester stalked out of Ranger's office in nothing but his socks. My heart was pounding and the sound of blood rushing through my head was nearly deafening as I stared after Lester. Several moments later, the slamming of a door filtered in from down the hall. I became momentarily lightheaded at the course of events but was quickly brought back to reality when I heard Ranger clearing his throat.

"Are you and Santos seeing each other?" he asked me quietly.

I narrowed my eyes and stood from my chair. "No," I said, my tone clipped and icy. "And if we were, what's it to you?"

Ranger shook his head and held his hands up, in mock surrender. "I have no room to talk, babe."

"That's right," I growled. "You certainly don't." I grabbed my purse off the floor and started towards the door. I paused and looked back at Ranger. "I really hate the fact that I've come between two friends. I saw a side of each of you that I've never seen before. It didn't have to be this way, Ranger."

"It didn't," Ranger agreed quietly. "But Santos's mouth is what got him in trouble. As usual."

I shook my head and smiled sadly. "No," I whispered. "It's his mouth that made me realize, just now, that he cares about me more than you _ever_ did, Ranger."

Ranger frowned furiously and shook his head. "That's not true, Stephanie. And you know it."

"Tell you what. I'm making my temporary suspension a permanent termination of my employment from this company. Now you'll have two pairs of shoes to try and fill."

With a very heavy heart, I turned and walked out of Ranger's office, sad beyond belief over the possible losses of not just one, but two friendships.

* * *

A sea of flashing lights and the wail of sirens were all that could be seen and heard when Lester and I pulled up to my apartment building in the Buick. Several police cars were blocking the entrance to the parking lot, so I parked in the swale near the Dumpsters and together we hiked up to the TPD officer standing at the edge of the lot. We sidled up to him and he motioned for us to duck underneath the yellow crime scene tape.

"I live here," I explained over the ruckus. "What's going on?"

"Gas leak," the officer replied. "Entire building's been evacuated."

My heart leapt and my vision went blurry. Rex! He was locked inside my apartment, probably smelling gas and unable to do a damn thing about it. Panic set in and I felt my knees go weak. Lester caught me just before I sank to the ground and held me upright in his arms. "My hamster," I exclaimed shakily. "I've got to go in and get him!"

"Miss, I can't let you inside. I'm very sorry about your pet, but -

Just then, I spotted Mrs. DeGuzman hurrying towards us with a small glass cage in her hands. "There you are, Stephanie," she warbled out. She hobbled up to Lester and I thrust the cage into my arms. "I knocked on your door right after they told us to evacuate. You didn't answer, so I used the emergency key you gave me to see if you were all right. You weren't home, but I did manage to rescue your hamster. Poor little thing. I've had the cage out here with me this whole time."

Bright stars burst behind my eyelids and the relief I felt was immense. I burst into tears and looked into the cage at Rex. He was huddled in his soup can, probably scared to death, but otherwise unharmed. "Thank you so much," I wailed as Lester rubbed my back soothingly.

"We're not yet sure when the residents will be allowed back into the building," the police officer spoke up. "Do you have a place to stay until then?"

I looked at Lester. "Do I?" I asked him cautiously.

Lester rolled his eyes and sighed, exasperated. "I told you I was kidnapping you until further notice," he whispered in my ear, causing chills to spread down my left arm. "We only came here to get Rex and some of your things." I shivered in anticipation at all of the naughty activities we'd no doubt do once we were safe and sound in the comfort of his bed. He smushed my teary face into his chest and I heard him say to the officer, "Of course she does." He gently turned me around and marched me over to the Buick before opening the passenger's side door. "I'll drive. You hold Rex."

Seeing Lester driving Big Blue was the world's biggest turn-off, but the way he was caring for me was so sweet that it counteracted the weirdness of watching him corner the Buick on two wheels and gun the gas-guzzling motor at every single yellow light.

"Yellow means slow down," I said to him. "Not speed up to try to make it through before the light turns red."

Lester eyed me from his side of the bench seat. "Beautiful, it's not every day that I get to commandeer something so...tank-like. The last time I drove a vehicle of this caliber was in Afghanistan. Let me have my moment."

I laughed. "Morelli used to always ask me if the Army knew about this car."

"We had better things than this Buick," Lester said, winking. He turned down Chestnut Street and came to a stop in the driveway of a beautiful brand-new red brick townhome with elegant black shutters and a colossal entryway. "Casa del Santos."

I opened my door and hauled Rex out of Big Blue. Lester pulled a small black clicker out of a pocket in his jeans and aimed it at the garage door. "Glad I took this from my Escalade before Tiny Ted took off with it," he remarked as the door slid up and we walked inside. One side of his garage was devoid of a vehicle, but the other half was home to his obsidian black Lexus. It was a four-door sports model, complete with body modifications and some type of performance exhaust system.

"You're taking me for a ride in that, right?" I countered.

Lester grinned. "In it or on it?"

_Yowza._ "Either or," I replied breathlessly, recovering quickly. "There's an overnight bag in the backseat of the Buick. I keep a change of clothes and some other things in there in case of an emergency."

Les went back out to the driveway to Big Blue and extracted a purple backpack out of the backseat. He carried it into the garage and handed it to me in exchange for Rex's cage. "I'll put him on the kitchen counter," he said to me. "Come on in." He hit a button and the garage door began to slide shut, so I followed him through a smaller door that led into the house.

I took a deep breath and smiled. "Something smells girly." We walked into a tiled hallway and, sure enough, a small plug shaped like a flower was sticking out of the outlet directly in front of me. A bulb of pink liquid was attached to the flower. Aha! I'd found the culprit.

"Cherry Blossom," Les said, by way of explanation. He set Rex's cage down on the granite kitchen countertop and leaned against the stove, legs crossed at the ankles. "My sister told me that my place smells too much like "new house" and decided to stick a flower thingy in practically all of the plugs. I don't really mind, except I drew the line when she tried to put one in my bedroom."

Lester's townhouse was pretty neat. There was a large eat-in kitchen, a back porch with a small but nicely-landscaped yard, a sunken living room with a fireplace, and a spacious dining room. Upstairs, I was assuming, was his bedroom and maybe a guest room. And hopefully a bathroom.

"Bathroom's upstairs, beautiful," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

How did he know? "Just tell me where to put my stuff," I said.

"My room," Les replied immediately.

"You sure?"

Santos grinned again and grabbed up my purple backpack. "Would I have said that if I wasn't sure? Come on, I'll show you around."

We toured the living room, the dining room, and the back porch before climbing the stairs to the second floor. Up there were a small guest room and guest bathroom, Lester's home office, a couple of linen closets, and the master suite and master bath. Lester's bed was huge, covered in a fluffy down comforter encased in a silky brown duvet. He had throw pillows piled on top and creamy ecru blankets folded near the foot. I was willing to bet that his sheets were almost as orgasmic as Ranger's, but I wasn't going to slide between them until I was absolutely certain he was okay with it. Not that he wouldn't be, but still. I have to have some personal space boundaries, people.

"You can take a shower, if you want," Lester said, breaking me from my thoughts. "I'll get everything situated while you're in there."

I smiled. "Thanks," I said, pulling him up against me by the shirt and kissing him softly. "I won't be long."

"Take as much time as you need, gorgeous." Lester kissed my forehead and set my purple backpack on the leather-covered chest at the foot of the bed. He went to his dresser and kicked off the soccer sandals that he'd been wearing ever since we left RangeMan. I was guessing he'd found them in his office while packing up his things and since Ranger still had his boots, soccer sandals must have seemed like the next best thing to wear instead of a pair of black socks. I watched as Les lifted the hem of his dress shirt and extracted a Glock from the waistband of his jeans. He placed the gun on his bedside table and set about to unbuttoning his dress shirt, staring down at his socked toes all the while.

I felt horrible; like I was the cause of this entire mess. Technically I was, but since I'm a firm believer in _everything happens for a reason,_ I had to keep reminding myself that there would be a light at the end of this fucked-up tunnel. Lester and I still hadn't said a word to each other about what had happened with Ranger, and I didn't want to bring it up unless I was absolutely certain that Lester would be okay with talking about it.

I picked up my purple backpack and carried it into the master bathroom. A marble-tiled shower was staring back at me and as soon as I'd stripped down and climbed under the heavenly spray, the sinking feelings in my stomach began to dissipate and I felt my eyes shutting. I didn't realize how exhausted I was, being that it was daybreak and I'd been up all night, and it was all I could do not to lean against the cool marble shower wall and let the hot water beads lull me to sleep.

Finally I was shampooed and shaved and clean, so I dried off and rubbed some smoothing serum through my curls before checking around for a blowdryer. I looked in several cabinets and struck gold with the one closest to the door. Bingo. I wasn't surprised that vain Lester Santos had a blowdryer, but I reminded myself that it might not be his, and also that he's had girlfriends in the past that it could have belonged to. I tucked a towel around my body and unlocked the door.

"Shower's all yours," I called into the bedroom. Lester appeared in the doorway in nothing but white Calvin Klein boxer-briefs. My stomach clenched and my nether-regions became deliciously hot and swollen. Ranger, eat your heart out.

Lester entered the bathroom with a wolf-grin and backed me up against the sink using just his body. "I like this outfit you're wearing," he said, his voice ten times deeper than usual. I gulped and felt something hard pressing into my stomach. Yep, he definitely liked it.

"It's just a towel," I breathed. "And speaking of outfits, I _really_ like the fact that you're not wearing one."

Lester groaned as I ran my hands up his chest and into his silky black hair. "Beautiful, you're killing me."

"We really should get some sleep, though," I said with a yawn. "It's been a long day. And night."

"Yeah," agreed Lester. "I know you've got to be tired. And I'm just about dead." He kissed me quickly and headed into the shower. While he washed up, I dried my hair and put on a pair of pink bikini panties. I rooted around in my backpack and realized I forgot to pack a night shirt. _I'm sure Lester wouldn't mind if I borrowed one of his tee shirts,_ I thought to myself. I walked into the bedroom and began opening drawers in his dresser. The third drawer down held nothing but tee shirts, so I selected a soft gray one with ARMY written across it in black and pulled it over my head. It was too big for me, but it was extremely comfortable and smelled _so good_, like Lester's fabric softener and traces of his orgasmic cologne. It smelled completely different than the Bulgari that Ranger wore and I found that it was equally as sexy, if not more.

Lester came out of the bathroom in black basketball shorts, his hair wet and mussed. He grinned from ear to ear when he saw me sitting on top of the bed covers in his Army tee shirt. I sauntered over to him and batted my eyelashes.

"Something wrong?" I asked with false innocence.

"Oh...my...God," he mumbled. "You're wearing my old PT shirt. And probably nothing under it, either." Lester's eyes had darkened to onyx and his bottom lip was turning white from him biting it so hard.

I smiled naughtily but was shocked when I found myself stifling back a yawn, proving just how tired I actually was. "Sorry," I said, laughing. Lester led me over to the bed and began tossing the throw pillows onto the floor. He turned down the duvet and hauled me down into bed with him. We snuggled under the covers and I moaned when my legs slid down under the sheets. They were every bit as soft and luxurious as I'd imagined, and they smelled as fantastic as Lester's tee shirt.

"Died and gone to heaven?" Lester asked me. He propped himself up on his elbow and grinned.

"Yes," I breathed. "What is it with all of you guys? Do you all belong to an orgasmic sheets club? Do Tank and Bobby have the same ones?"

Les laughed. "I'm not sure. I've never slept in their beds."

"That's a relief."

Lester's head thunked down on his pillow and he pulled my back up against his warm chest. We lay in comfortable silence for several minutes, enjoying the closeness and each other's intimate company. Finally, I heard him sigh against my neck.

"I'm unemployed, beautiful," he mumbled. "For the first time since I was fifteen, I think."

I turned around in his arms and pulled back so I could look into his eyes. "Listen to me, Lester. I am so grateful that you stood up for me tonight. It meant so much to me that you were willing to risk your job and your friendship with Ranger in an attempt at justice for me."

"I wasn't going to let him do that to you, Steph," Les replied. "I've been getting sick of his holier-than-thou act and condescending demeanor. There's a lot that happens in that building that you don't know about or hear about. Shit that sometimes is even too insane for _me_ to deal with, and they tell me I'm the craziest one out of all of them." He took a deep breath and let it out. "I didn't want to end things this way, but for some reason, Ranger brought out the worst in me tonight."

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice cracking. "This isn't fair to you. You lost your job and probably a good reference. Where else are you going to be able to find something?"

Lester hugged me to his chest and kissed my messy curls. "Don't get upset. This is just a minor setback in Lester's Life Plan. You're my best friend, Steph. You have been for awhile, and I trust you more than I trust anybody. You know me better than I know myself sometimes, and I'm not too much of a pussy to admit that."

I smiled and sniffed back a couple of tears that threatened to escape. "I know you better than you know yourself because I'm almost exactly like you, Lester. Except with boobs and a vagina."

Les laughed. "Damn right. We say what's on our minds, regardless of the circumstances or what consequences we'll have to face. We're not afraid of challenges and we look at fucked-up situations with smiles on our faces and tackle them head-on. We're passionate about our jobs and we sure as hell don't take no for an answer."

"You're certainly right about that."

Lester quickly sobered and lowered his eyes. "I'm glad I turned my phone off. I'm not ready to talk to any of the guys just yet. I'm sure they all know what's happened by now, but I'm too fucking exhausted to deal with their questions and accusations right now."

I nodded. "Me, too. I'm sure they tried to call me when they couldn't get you. Our message inboxes will probably be on overload when we turn our phones back on."

"We'll tackle it together, one day at a time." Lester yawned. "My eyes are shutting, beautiful."

I was one step ahead of him. Mine were already shut. I snuggled against his warm chest and breathed deeply, feeling content and secure for the first time in a long time, despite the fact that I'd just quit my job at RangeMan and possibly ruined things with Ranger for good.

"Thank you," I whispered to Lester.

"For what?" he whispered back.

"Just...everything."

Les sighed and kissed me gently. "One day at a time, gorgeous."

* * *

When my eyelids fluttered open again, the room was still dark. I raised my head off the pillow and peered out Lester's bedroom window at what had to be the grayest, rainiest day Trenton had seen in awhile. The sky was so dark it was nearly black. Raindrops pounded on the roof above and on the window panes. Gusts of wind howled outside, and the clock on Lester's bedside table read 12:24 in the afternoon.

Beside me, Lester was on his back with his head turned away from me. He was snoring lightly and had apparently gotten warm while he slept, because he'd kicked all of the covers off of him and was sprawled out across the bed. His light caramel skin was stretched smoothly across his taut muscles and eight-pack abs. I was glad that to see that he wasn't the type to junk up his perfect skin with a million tattoos, but I knew for sure that he had one large one spread across his right shoulder blade that wrapped around to his bicep and a small one on the outside of his lower right calf. He was a Yankees fan through-and-through having been raised in New York and all, and a collection of baseball trinkets and expensive-looking memorabilia decorated a good portion of his bedroom.

I lay back down with my hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling. As for me, I wasn't as unemployed as Lester was, but I was certainly going to miss the steady RangeMan pay with all the benefits and insurance perks. I was going to have to go back to working full-time for Vinnie and struggling to make ends meet, praying that the Food Fairy would visit overnight and leave me groceries and cleaning supplies.

Worst of all, things were completely ruined between Ranger and I. I wondered if, after all that's happened, that we'd ever get to be where we used to be. He was going to have to replace two core employees, juggle home life with a new baby, and try to run RangeMan in the absence of one of his best rank and file guys and his top-notch computer specialist. I actually felt bad for him.

I felt a warm hand inch its way up my shoulder to my neck and begin rubbing gently, under my tee shirt. "The sound of the wheels cranking in your head woke me up," Lester mumbled with a smile, his voice all deep and raspy from sleep. "What are you thinking about?"

My eyelids had fluttered shut on their own volition when Les began gently working at a knot near the base of my neck. "Everything," I breathed. "You, Ranger, the guys..."

"Stop thinking, beautiful. We've got plenty of time for that later." He moved to a spot near my right shoulder and began to press down.

I moaned softly. "That feels really good."

"Yeah?" Lester moved closer to me and began to inch his hand down my side, to my lower back. I was wet and throbbing by that point, from having his hands on me. His fingers tripped down my side to my right hip and he continued his delicious torture of the muscles there. "What about here?"

"That feels good, too," I stammered. "God, Lester..." I was squirming on the mattress and soaked beyond belief. If he didn't get the message soon, I was going to wring his neck. My knees raised up involuntarily and fell open, eliciting a deep groan from his chest.

Lester's amazing fingers slid expertly across my tummy and I felt him toying with the elastic of my panties while he put his lips to my ear. When he used one hand to slowly peel the ruined pink panties away from my hips and down my thighs, I nearly arched off the bed. He tossed the wet cotton onto the floor, and as his left hand ghosted up my leg and to my outer thigh, I came completely undone.

He lifted his hand away and less than a second later, his amazing fingers were gently probing my slippery folds. Lester groaned into my neck and proceeded to slide his fingertips up and down my wet slit, carefully avoiding the sensitive protrusion at the top. "Fuck, Stephanie," he gritted out. "Are you this wet because of me? Tell me, beautiful."

At that point, I was speechless with need. I could barely manage a nod and had managed to lock a death grip into his spiky black hair, holding his face to my neck. The soft tee shirt slid over my hypersensitive nipples with each movement I made, heightening the sensations flowing through my hot, heavy body. "How about here, gorgeous?" Les mumbled as he gently pushed two fingers into my throbbing body. "How does this feel?"

I cried out and immediately burst into orgasm, contracting tightly around his fingers as they slowly slid in and out of me, putting exquisite pressure on my g-spot and gliding across my swollen clit with each pass upwards. Lester drew the agonizing torture out to eternity and eventually removed his fingers from my body before sucking them clean with his lips and tongue. He leaned his forehead up against mine and shut his eyes as we panted to catch our breaths. He lowered his head and kissed me deeply, letting me taste my intimate desire on his tongue.

"So you didn't tell me how that last part felt," Les said conversationally, once we'd come up for air.

I glared at him and ended up smiling. "Wasn't my reaction a good enough answer for you?" I asked him incredulously, referring to the mother of all orgasms that I'd just had, courtesy of his talented fingers.

"Yeah. I was hoping to torture you for awhile, though. Guess that plan backfired on me, hunh?" Lester placed a smacking kiss on my neck before whipping off his basketball shorts and settling himself between my legs. He was hard beyond belief as he nestled his huge cock between my soaked folds. He groaned and began slowly sliding himself up and down my slit, wetting himself with my fluids. I laced my fingers into his hair and locked his face against mine before kissing him deeply.

When Lester finally entered me, stars burst from behind my eyelids as my body prepared for his delicious invasion. He filled me completely, stretched me to the max. He paused to get control, pressing up against my g-spot and causing waves of heat to flow through every single one of my veins. Several seconds later, he began to move. Slowly at first, then picking up his speed when he felt my legs bend and slide against his sides.

The ensuing minutes were sheer bliss. Screams and cries of encouragement and affection, whispered endearments during slower moments, nail-digging and hip-clutching at more intense moments. Our bodies were one. Moving together, sliding together as one. I was aware, at some point, that he'd flipped me onto my belly and entered me from behind, flattening his chest against my back and placing hot, open-mouthed kisses along my neck as he slid in and out of me with ease.

His rhythm never faltered; his stamina unmatched. Sweat ran off of our bodies and blended into the sheets of his bed as tears poured down my face. Lester flipped me onto my back and thrust into me again. Harder and harder, momentarily slowing his pace to let me come and finally allowing himself to empty deep inside of my body, in my most intimate of all places. He kissed me tenderly and pulled me back up against his front once he'd withdrawn from my body.

_Finally_, my body was screaming.

Sleep overtook us once again, and our eyelids slid shut as we curled up together, under the covers.

* * *

When I opened my eyes for the second time, the room was even darker than it had been, indicating that night had most likely fallen. I felt around in bed for Lester but my hands met nothing but sheets and pillows. Where the hell was he?

I crawled out of bed and located my panties on the floor near the nightstand. I slid them on and found some gym shorts in Lester's bottom dresser drawer. I threw those on, too, and padded down the hall to Lester's home office. A desk lamp was turned on, and Les was sitting in his desk chair in nothing but his basketball shorts. He was peering at the screen of a laptop, oblivious to my presence.

"Hey," I said softly, smiling.

Lester whirled around and grinned widely when he saw me. "Hey, gorgeous," he replied, holding his arms out to me. I perched myself on the edge of his lap and together we peered at the screen.

"Where's Abe Sanchez Bail Bonds?" I asked slowly, reading from the screen and the website he'd pulled up.

"Place near Philly, across the river," Les replied. "He's got a want-ad up for a bounty hunter. I'm thinking of sending him my resume."

I read a little further down the website. "Isn't Abe Sanchez a good friend of Ranger's?" I said, frowning. "Come to think of it, Abe's been to RangeMan on a number of occasions to see him."

Lester's face fell and he scrubbed his hands across his eyes in frustration. "Fuck," he breathed out. "You're right. I forgot about that guy. He was always up Ranger's ass for one thing or another. I wouldn't want to work for him, anyway."

"You know he'll ask Ranger for a reference," I pointed out. "Best not even to try."

Lester sighed. "I really hate to say this, but if I don't find something soon, beautiful, I may have to re-enlist."

My stomach sank. "What?" I whispered.

"Let me explain." Les settled me on his lap and turned us away from the computer. He twirled a lock of my hair around on his finger while he began his tale. "I don't know if I ever told you this, but before I left the Army I was on Delta Force. We dealt mostly with the disabling of insurgents and trying our best to counteract terrorism, but most of our missions were covert and extremely classified. I was trained extensively as a sniper. I can't tell you much about the operations Delta's been involved with in the past, and while I was in, but I can tell you that we were involved in the offensive against the Taliban after the 9-11 terrorist attacks. Delta missions are both dangerous and unpredictable, especially when terrorism is involved. Before I left the military when I was twenty-six, my commanding officer informed me that my place on Delta Force will forever be reserved for me, should I decide to re-enlist."

I was speechless. I had no idea that Lester had been involved with a group as secretive and as prestigious as Delta Force. It sounded like it was a high honor to achieve and I was immediately extra proud of him for serving our country as one of the military's most elite soldiers.

I pulled Lester's face to mine and kissed him. "It sounds like you miss it."

Les nodded in agreement. "I do. But Delta Force is no life for someone with a family and close friends. It's hard enough leaving constantly without being able to tell everyone you know where you're going and why, and for how long. I'm torn."

"You've been working for RangeMan for four years. That's a long time. You must be used to civilian life by now," I pointed out. "To go back to a life of uncertainty and especially back to Delta Force may be harder than you think."

"It's only a possibility, beautiful," Les insisted. "I'm going to try my hardest to find something here. And I know I've got you here to help me. But if I don't..." He trailed off, unable to voice the words.

"You will. We just have to have faith, that's all." I leaned my head against his shoulder and felt his arms come around me.

_Please Lord, let him find something here,_ I prayed silently. _Please don't take away my rock. I need him more than he knows. _

* * *

**A/N:** This is still a Ranger-friendly story, but of course some rocky times are bound to happen. Keep the faith, and please keep reading and reviewing. Your input means so much to me! It truly inspires me to continue.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi, all...I've actually updated! It's been awhile but I hope you're all still excited to read Chapter 6 of Step Up. Hope everyone's having a happy new year! Special thanks to Gaelyn (Cokkii) for her suggestions and support while betaing this chapter!**

* * *

**Tank's POV**

When I have a gut feeling about something, good or bad, I'm ninety-nine times out of a hundred right on the money. Part of being a mercenary and a bounty hunter, I guess. Goes with the territory. I've been trained by the military to treat any and all situations that arise as if they _will_, not _might_, become FUBAR.

This morning's daybreak fiasco was no exception.

When the boss and I caught Bombshell making out with Santos out in the hall a couple hours ago, I was certain that all hell would break loose at that very moment. And I wasn't wrong; it's just that this time, hell had broken loose in a quiet, creepy way. And later, behind closed doors with no one there besides Ranger, Stephanie, and Lester to witness the havoc, the Wrath of Manoso would be released.

I headed into my bedroom and took off my boots and tee shirt before crawling into bed to reflect on what had just transpired in the past twenty-four ridiculous hours.

_Four hours earlier..._

My radar was humming as I stood watching silently from down the hall as Stephanie and Lester, blank faces in place, trooped into Ranger's suite one by one._ This isn't gonna be good_, I thought. Ranger's office is off-limits when he's got a meeting with an employee or a client, so I'm never in on whatever goes down behind the closed door until he briefs me on the details. Instead of hanging around in the hall like I usually do, standing at parade rest and ready to provide backup should the situation in Ranger's office escalate, I decided to take a hike. This was most likely none of my business, anyway.

As soon as Steph and Santos were shut soundly inside Ranger's office, I went up to my apartment on four and changed out of my club clothes and into some gym clothes. I felt like I needed to wind down a little before going up to bed and sleeping away my day off. I rode the elevator down to one and found a couple of the guys lifting free weights in the fitness center.

"Yo Tank-o," exclaimed Hal as he lowered a hand weight. "Still awake?"

"I should be saying the same about you," I barked, picking up a twenty-pounder. "How's that bottle of tequila treating you right about now?"

"I'm actually okay," Hal replied. He lifted his free weight again and grinned at me. "Interesting turn of events at the club, hunh? You know, between Steph and Santos?" He shook his head and continued to do reps. "God only knows what they did when they got home."

I let the weight I'd been holding drop down onto the mat and glared at Hal. "Dominguez, I suggest that you keep that pea-brain of yours clear of everyone else's business but your own."

Hal frowned. "Tank, man -

"I mean it. Whatever the two of them do on their own time isn't for us to analyze. They're both single adults. Let it go."

Hal scoffed and turned away from me. "Fuckin' A." He resumed his lifting in silence, only looking at me to periodically give me hard, level stares.

Fuck him. It was part of my job to protect the integrity and privacy of the employees who work for this company. As crazy as I thought Steph and Santos were for putting their supposed relationship out in the open for all to witness and speculate on, it was certainly not my place to question their judgment.

I lifted for half an hour and wrapped my session up with a brisk walk on the treadmill. As I was winding down, the door to the fitness center clicked open and Ranger stuck his head in.

"Tank," he called to me. He looked over at Hal. "Dominguez. Meeting at 0800." With a flick of his wrist, he was gone.

Shit. There goes my nap.

* * *

The empty seat at the conference table was bothering me. The uneasy feelings I'd gotten earlier when Bomber and Santos disappeared into Ranger's office were back full-force, but before I got the chance to examine them further, Ranger stepped into the conference room and clicked the door shut behind him. I glanced around at Bobby, Vince, Hal, Cal, and Ram and felt my stomach become slightly queasy. Ram looked pissed because he knew, without a doubt, that he was going to miss the fancy Princeton brunch with his girl. Bobby and Vince both looked tired and hungover.

"Thank you all for coming on short notice and on your day off," Ranger stated before taking his seat at the head of the table.

"Bossman," Bobby interjected. "Santos isn't here."

Ranger sighed and folded his hands together. "You're right, Brown. Santos isn't here. I might as well get this over with, so here goes. His employment with RangeMan has been terminated as of six-thirty this morning. As well as Stephanie's."

Six jaws, including my own, hit the floor. I was the first to find my voice. "Bossman, if this is about Steph and Lester in the hall earlier -

"It's not about that," Ranger interrupted me. "It's about his mouth and its inability to stay shut before speaking his mind. And about Stephanie's inability to keep her finger off the trigger when she's angry at someone."

The guys and I were silent for several moments until, "I can't believe this. What the fuck are we gonna do without Santos? And Bomber?" Bobby exclaimed, clearly disturbed by the realization that his best friend would no longer be by his side as far as work was concerned.

"This is ridiculous," spat Vince, leaning back hard in his leather executive chair. "No one was better at the job than he was!"

"He WAS the job. Do you know how many times he's saved our asses? How many times he's come through for us? I couldn't count them on the hands of a hundred people!" yelled Cal.

Ranger cut in. "Santiago, lower your voice. This is not the end of the world," he said. "Like I told Santos earlier, he's more than replaceable."

"I can't believe how easy that was for you to say, Carlos," I spoke up quietly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I was fairly certain that Santos was also one of your closest friends."

"That's neither here nor there, Tank," Ranger said darkly, a finger pointed in my face. "And it's not for you to speculate on."

I was so angry that I couldn't speak, even if I wanted to.

Bobby took over. "Can you at least tell us what the hell happened, then?" he asked Ranger angrily.

Ranger let out a ragged breath. "I didn't fire either of them. I know you're all thinking that I did, but that's not the case. I placed Stephanie on a temporary suspension after she shot Munson in the foot, to try and facilitate the same disciplinary action that I'd have used with any of my other employees. She took it personally and that's when Santos began spouting his mouth off. He nearly worked his way off of the core team with his insubordination the condescending attitude that he took with me. Luckily for him, he resigned before I terminated him for his unacceptable behavior." Ranger frowned. "After Santos quit, Stephanie chose to make her suspension permanent."

The guys were all looking at each other. "This is still so unbelievable," Cal spoke up. "I don't know how we'll get by without Santos. Or Steph."

"We'll manage," Ranger told him. "I've got the files of a few guys who turned in applications not too long ago." Ranger held up a stack of manila folders. "I'm holding...an audition, so to speak. I'd like for a few of you to set up some activities and see how well these men will adjust to employment with RangeMan. As for Stephanie's position, I'm giving someone I've been in business-only contact with for many years a shot at filling it. She's also a bounty hunter and bail bondsman, and is excellent with computers and logistical operations."

Hal rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Who, Jean Ellen Burrows?" he sneered.

Ranger frowned. "As a matter of fact, Dominguez, yes. She'll be in this afternoon for a working interview. And as for the rest of you, I suggest that you all figure out a way to divide up the remainder of Santos's work and make the best of things until he can be replaced." Ranger glanced at Vince. "I've got to get back to the hospital, but Romano, you're in charge until further notice since Tank and Brown are both off today."

I walked out of Ranger's office with what felt like a large stone sitting in my gut. I felt as if life as we knew it had ended and a new one, sans two of the hearts and souls of RangeMan Incorporated, was beginning. It was an awful feeling that left me speechless and heavy-hearted.

I sank down into a chair in the employee lounge a few doors down from the conference room just as Cal entered.

"This is bullshit," was the first thing he said when he saw me. "This is seriously bullshit."

"Santiago," I began weakly, "this might only be temporary. Ranger may cave and offer to re-hire either one or both of them. We can't go around thinking that this is the way things will be forever."

"It seems pretty permanent to me, man." Cal ran a hand over his freshly-shaven head and leaned against the door frame. "Doesn't sound like Bossman's gonna budge on this one. Come on, you heard him! He's already talking about replacing Bomber and Santos with Burrows and some freak-show wannabe-badasses."

"So what?" I threw back. "He's stressed out. He's got a lot on his plate right now. Maybe he's -

Cal scoffed. "Stop making excuses for him, Tank. He knows he'll be sorry later. And if he _does_ decide to hire them back, I only hope that Santos and Steph are doing too well somewhere else to even _consider_ working for him again."

I was silent. I didn't know what to say back to Cal, other than _you're probably right_. I decided not to say anything at all, because Cal wasn't really the person I wanted to be talking to about this, anyway. I wanted to talk to Lester, but I was completely unsure of how he'd handle a phone call from one of us at the moment. I fixed Cal with a level glare and wordlessly rose from my chair. Keeping my eyes trained on his, I headed out of the lounge. When I reached the elevator, I started to put my hand on the button but a horrendous thought struggled its way out of my subconscious and suddenly came barging into the front of my brain.

The door to Ranger's office was closed when I approached it, but that didn't stop me from knocking.

"Bossman. You in there?"

"It's unlocked, Tank."

I pushed open the door and looked in at Ranger sitting in his desk chair. He turned to face me as I shut the door behind myself and sat down in a guest chair. I lowered my voice and leaned forward in my chair, over his desk blotter. "I have one question to ask you, and I'll be damned if you're gonna give me a bullshit answer."

"Depends on whether or not it's a bullshit question."

Fair enough. "Did you suspend Stephanie because she shot Munson? Or because she made out with Santos?"

Ranger blanched and coiled back in surprised outrage. "Do you seriously think that's how I run my company? How long have I known you now, Tank? Eleven years? Twelve years? You're my best friend. You should know by now that I'm fair and that I don't take sides. And that I also don't let personal feelings or opinions affect how I make disciplinary decisions. But how would it look if I let her off the hook for what she did? My men won't ever take me seriously again!"

"Your men know the difference between right and wrong," I said through clenched teeth. "Yes, it was foolish of her to cap the guy. Yes, I agree with you having a talk with her about controlling herself when she's angry. I'll give you that. But suspension? That's harsh, Carlos. You know that we all still love her, even if you don't anymore. Or maybe you never really did, I don't know. But it kills me that I won't see her smiling face around here again. She brought many good things to this company and I'm only sorry that you seem to have forgotten what they are. She was an asset to RangeMan in many, many ways. And don't even get me started on Santos. Steph's shoes will be hard enough to fill. I don't need to stress how important Santos was to this company, too. Not to mention the fact that he and I are closer to you than you've ever let anyone get. And as for him and Steph? Do you see the way she looks at him? The way she _used_ to look at you. Congratulations. You blew it, man. Big time."

"So you think I blew it," Ranger stated, his voice quiet with unspoken anger. "How is that?"

"You know damn well how you blew it! She'd been hoping that once she'd finally gotten rid of the cop, you'd step up and tell her how you felt about her. But your getting a client's daughter pregnant wasn't exactly the sentimental gesture she'd been waiting for."

Ranger leaned across his desk and put his face mere inches from mine. "Tank, you're out of line coming in here and questioning my motives for the decisions I've made."

I drew in a breath and couldn't help but feel defeated. I really wasn't getting the answer I'd come here looking for, anyway. Several moments of silence passed until, "I'm only looking out for the best interests of Stephanie and Lester, sir. Please pardon my insensitivity towards the matters at hand. I'm certain that you've made a decision that will yield the best possible outcome for your employees and your company." I got up to leave.

"Cut the military talk," Ranger spat. "I'm not your fucking commanding officer anymore. Look, I know that I completely blew my chances with Stephanie, although I certainly didn't want to. What I did that night with Lauren Marie...it...it was a mistake. That I can't take back. And I don't want to, because of my beautiful son. But you have to realize that -

"You could have had her, Carlos! She could be yours, right now! Instead, she's out doing God-knows-what with Santos and actually enjoying herself for a change. They're good for each other, I can see it. We all can. And if you still care about either of them as friends, then maybe you might see it, too! All Stephanie's looking for is the chance to be happy at this point. And me and the guys won't let anything stand in her way."

Ranger stood up and pushed his chair back so hard that it rolled into his bookcase. "Why Santos?" he grit out.

"Because!" I yelled. I quickly lowered my voice, realizing that I was angrier than I thought I'd be. "Because, Bossman. He stepped up."

I let myself out of Ranger's office and shut the door quietly behind me, leaving him speechless inside. I'd finally gotten my answer, and I'd never thought so low of Carlos Manoso in all my life.

* * *

I got off of the elevator on four, hoping to God that Bobby was home and had maybe heard something from Lester.

I pounded on his apartment door and waited until he threw the locks and pulled it open. "His phone's off," he said, as soon as he saw me in his doorway. He pulled the door open wider to allow me through. "Steph's is, too."

"Maybe they're just not ready to deal with us yet, as shitty as that sounds," I said. I seated myself on Bobby's couch and took the bottle of ice cold beer that he'd offered me. "It's a little early for alcohol," I stated to Bobby, holding up the frosty green bottle. "Didn't you drink enough last night?"

"Best way to cure a hangover is to have another beer." Bobby grinned and took a pull off of his Heineken. "Sorry about the crapola brewski. It's all I've got."

"No worries, man." I took a chug and set my bottle down onto the coffee table. Bobby had the TV tuned to ESPN, where highlights were being shown of the previous night's basketball game. He ran a hand across his cornrows and looked down at his bare feet.

"Lester's fierce," Bobby said on a sigh. "Ever since he was a recruit. Thought he was all big and bad just because he'd joined the Army. Had a mouth on him that would have had bin Laden himself running for cover. It got him into trouble all the damn time."

"Yeah," I agreed, conjuring up images of the scrawny twenty-one-year-old in fatigues with the M-16 in his arms who could tear a grown man apart with words instead of bullets. "It's still biting him in the ass."

The unmistakable opening jingle of an Army commercial caused Bobby and I to become silent and turn towards the TV screen. We watched wordlessly as the commercial droned on, kickstarting thoughts in our heads that, unbeknownst to us, were identical. Bobby turned to me at the same time that I turned to him.

"Delta," I began slowly. "You don't think he'll -

"Shit," Bobby hissed. "That's all we need right now, is for him to re-enlist and send everything to hell. What about Bomber?"

"We know hardly anything about him and Bomber," I shot back. "All we know is that they left the club together and, for some reason, came here. Probably to pick up the paperwork on Munson, but I don't know for sure. Besides, I really don't think that what goes on between him and Steph is any of our business. I care about them both, and whatever they choose to do with their lives is fine with me, as long as they're happy."

"You're right," Bobby said. "But you don't think he'll do it, do you?"

"Do what? Call Lieutenant Colonel Rodgers and ask for his spot back on Delta Force? No. At least not right now." I sighed. "When he first started at RangeMan, all he used to talk about was Delta this, Delta that. It was his life. Hell, it was _both_ of your lives for four years. I think he'll be smart enough to find another job here in Trenton before he goes running back to the Army. He knows what kind of life will be waiting for him if he goes back to Delta."

"Yeah, but now's his chance to go back, Tank. No job, no family, no wife, no kids. If this is what he wants, who are we to stop him?"

I shook my head. "I think you're worrying yourself to an ulcer, Brown. We're getting ahead of ourselves. We haven't even spoken to him yet."

Bobby sat back against the couch cushion. "Yeah," he agreed. "It's stupid to worry. Should we go over there?"

"No," I replied. "Great job with the not-worrying thing, by the way."

"I just want to see him, man. I want to see for myself that he's okay. And if he's with Steph, even better. I want to see both of them."

I smiled wryly. "If he's with Steph, and it's only ten-thirty in the morning, I'm sure neither of them will want to drag themselves out of bed and come to the door to find us on the other side." I took a pull off my beer. "Give them some time."

* * *

I was still at Bobby's when my cell phone rang, at about quarter to seven that evening. He and I had been shooting the shit and watching sports all afternoon, so conversation with another human being sounded pretty enticing to me. Especially if it was Santos on the other line.

"Talk," I barked, not bothering to read the caller ID on my BlackBerry.

"Hey."

My heart leapt. "Santos. How's it?"

"Could be better, man."

A few seconds passed by while I thought of what to say. I cleared my throat. "Listen, Les, I really don't know what to sa -

"Don't say anything then, bro. I'm fine. Steph's fine."

"Good, good. I'm glad she's okay."

"She's here next to me. She says hi and that she loves you. All of the guys, too."

Silence again. "I'm gonna miss you two to death, man," I finally said quietly. "I hate this shit."

"I know, man. Me, too. But hey, I've already started looking for positions here in Trenton," Lester told me. "Security and stuff like that. I might go back into bail bonds, if something comes up."

I cleared my throat again. "Let me know if I can help. You know, references and whatnot. I can put in a good word for you both."

"Thanks, man. That means a hell of a lot." Lester sighed. "Steph's gonna continue working for Vinnie, I guess. She'd like to find something more stable with steady pay and benefits, so we'll see." Lester was silent for a few beats. "Sorry for not calling sooner, bro."

"Hey, hey," I said soothingly. "Don't worry about it. You both had a lot to sort out. Stop apologizing."

"I want it to still be cool with us, man. Keep me and Steph in the loop. We've got a lot of love for you guys."

"We've got love for you guys, too. We'll talk, everyday. Just don't be strangers, you know?"

"No way."

I was quiet for a few seconds before saying, "Bobby and I are here at his place. We were waiting for one of you to call. We got to thinking about you, and back in the day, and Delta..."

"Delta?" Lester scoffed. "Why were you thinking of Delta?"

I shifted uneasily on Bobby's couch. "Well, you always said that you'd go back in a heartbeat if you got the chance. And since you're unemployed and all now, we were hoping that you'd consider many other options before re-enlisting."

Santos was silent for a few moments. "I've never lied to you, Tank, and I'm not gonna start now. It's crossed my mind, don't get me wrong. I've even told Stephanie about it, about what I used to do and what Delta Force is all about. We've agreed that I'll try hard to find something here in Trenton, but if it doesn't happen that way..."

"Lt. Colonel Rodgers would take you back in a second, you know."

"I know he would. He always said that I was one of the best in the bunch. But my life is here, not at the Fort Bragg barracks. I can't go back to that."

"Look. The guys and I may be able to find you a position here in Trenton. We've got connections and are able to pull strings. At least let us try to help."

Lester was quiet before finally saying, "Sure, man. That'd be great. Thanks, I owe you guys."

I felt myself smiling. "It's nothing. And Santos. Keep your chin up. Steph, too."

"I will. We will. Good to talk to you, Tank."

"Good to_ hear _from you, Santos."

I disconnected and turned to Bobby. "They're fine," I said to him, on a sigh. I stuck my phone in my pocket and stood up to leave. "I'd love to stay and drink more shitty beer with you, Brown, but I've got some work to do."

Bobby clapped me on the back after he'd walked me to the door. "Think you might know someone who's hiring?"

"Yep."

* * *

**What job does Tank have lined up for Lester? What kind of a relationship do Les and Steph have and where will it take them? And when will Ranger stop being such a butt-head? lol...find out soon! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you so much to all who have read and reviewed. Your input truly inspires me to continue writing. **

**Ranger's POV**

I'm fucked up. I am so, so fucked up. I haven't been this fucked up since Special Ops training ten years ago, when one of the other recruits took a bullet to the chest during a training exercise and died in my arms. He was one of the best friends I'd ever had, up to that point in my life. Torres was his last name. Jonathan Torres. Only eighteen years old. We grew up together, in the same neighborhood. Went to the same school. I'd talked him into joining the Army with me. He was so excited and his parents were so fucking proud. So fucking proud of him. And I'd gotten him killed.

The Army put me through counseling for it. I'd lost my father the same week to pancreatic cancer; my mother called me the day after he died to tell me my fifteen-year-old sister, Aurelia, was pregnant, and that the baby's father had taken a one-way flight to Jamaica and supposedly had his name changed.

Fucking asshole.

I'm not God. And I'm not perfect. I screw up, just like everyone else. People have me on such a high pedestal that it makes it difficult for me to make mistakes and actually have the balls to admit when I'm wrong. _You're Ranger,_ they all say. _You'll never let us down._

No. My name is Carlos Manoso, and I'm human. Just like you.

Over the past year, I can count all of the mistakes I've made on both of my hands. I created a baby with a woman that I barely know and am not entirely sure that I'd _like_ to even get to know. I let one of my best friends and one of my most proficient employees slip through my fingers without even a second thought. Not only is our friendship now effectively ruined, so might be his chance of actually finding another worthwhile career.

And worst of all, the one and only woman to _ever_ make me feel like a human being is out of my life and it's all my fault. All my fault. If only I'd have just shaken my head and laughed and said, "Babe. Easy on the target practice next time. If you want to shoot, I'll make some time to work with you down in the range."

But no. I couldn't say that to her. Because that former best friend and proficient employee that I mentioned earlier? She had her mouth pressed to his and I was only so lucky to have witnessed it all. He had one hand tangled in her curls and the other splayed across her luscious ass as they kissed, deeply and passionately. If I'd have just been a passer-by, a nobody, I'd have thought it was sexy as hell. Especially when her hands slithered up his chest and into his thick, toussled spikes as their lower halves ground together.

Quiet, jealous rage quickly built up inside of my body as I watched them. "Let me call you right back," I'd barked to the caller on the other end of my cell phone, unable to physically continue the conversation. I was vaguely aware of Tank's presence next to me, and I knew he was no doubt as speechless at the scene playing before us.

I suspended her without a second thought. For something that she actually _deserved_ to do, without a shadow of a doubt. I'd always been proud of Stephanie for handling herself even in the presence of the most degrading, least human-like scumbags, and although blowing off somebody's appendage wasn't necessarily a perfect outlet for her anger, I was actually somewhat tickled when I got the phone call from Tank.

And as mortified as I was for having just witnessed Santos's tongue disappear down Stephanie's throat, nothing could have prepared me for the way he'd speak to me just moments later in my office. I'd given him a clear warning, but he wouldn't calm down. Something inside of him just...snapped. Instinct, I guess. To protect what was his. It was the Puerto Rican in him. And the soldier.

Was she his? Was Stephanie really his? I didn't know for sure. She later denied that they were in any kind of relationship, but just the _fact_ that I'd been the last to know about involvement between the two of them bothered the hell out of me.

Call a spade a spade, Manoso. You fucked up, too. Way before she did.

Tank came into my office after the meeting in which I told the guys that Santos and Stephanie would no longer be working at RangeMan. I'd pretty much lied to his face when he'd asked me what my real reason for suspending Stephanie was, but I think he figured out the truth eventually. I really can't blame him for thinking less of me. As far as how I feel about myself at the present time, I'm about on the same level as dog shit.

* * *

I'd been home with Lauren Marie and my son for about two days when I received a phone call from Connie Rosolli at Vinnie Plum's office.

"Ranger," she exclaimed when the connection was made. "How's the new little guy?"

My lips quirked up into the promise of a smile. "Eats and cries," I replied. "All day and all night long."

Connie laughed her thick, nasal Jersey chuckle. "Wait 'til he starts walking and getting into things. You're gonna miss the crying and eating days."

I chuckled lightly. "You're probably right about that." I quickly sobered. I sighed and said, "I know you didn't call just to chat about my son. What's going on?"

Connie was silent for a few beats. "Vinnie's got a file for you," she said quietly. "It's here, at the office. He'd like to meet with you to go over it."

"Why the uneasiness?"

More silence. Finally, "Steph's here. She's in the back, filing with Lula. They've just ordered lunch."

"Oh."

Connie continued rambling nervously. "And I wasn't sure if you were okay with stopping by because of what happened between you and Steph and all, and I'm also hoping that you know you're not unwelcome here because you still work for Vinnie, and the guys are -

"Connie. Can you give me twenty?"

She blew out a breath and I could hear the smile in her voice as she answered, "Sure."

I disconnected and got up from my desk chair. I headed out of my home office and into the bedroom to find Lauren Marie nursing the baby on the bed. _Maury _was on the TV, but Lauren wasn't watching it. She was staring off into space, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

"I'll be gone for the remainder of the afternoon and possibly the evening," I told her quietly, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. I bent down to kiss the baby's cheek and took a few moments to watch him as he nursed. "Ella will bring dinner up around six for you."

Lauren Marie turned to look at me. "I guess this is the first of many, hunh."

I sat up, confused. "Many what?"

"Many nights that I'll be home alone with the baby, having dinner by myself. Going to bed by myself. Maybe waking up by myself."

I sighed. "I have a company to run, Lauren. You've known that from the start. And not only am I short two people, I have to try and -

"I get it, Carlos. We're second here." She gestured down at our son cradled against her breast. "We've only been home two days and you're already running off, with more important things to do. Places to go, people to see."

I got up from the bed and stood next to her. "You knew all this," I said, my voice quiet with bottled-up frustration. "I don't have a choice here."

"It's fine, really. Ella will bring dinner up at six. You'll be gone until tonight. Yep. Got it." She looked down at the baby again. "We'll be just fine."

I kissed the top of her head. "I'll try to make this as quick as possible." I located my gun in my bureau and strapped it to my waist before concealing it with a tailored black leather jacket. "See you tonight." With a final kiss to my son's perfect little forehead, I was gone.

* * *

"The man of the hour," Vinnie announced proudly as I walked through the door to the bonds office. "Just the guy I want to see."

I nodded to Vinnie. "I hear you've got something for me."

Connie approached me near the doorway. "Ranger, if you'd like to head into Vinnie's office -

"Come on in here, you animal." Vinnie gave a hearty chortle and gestured for me to follow him into his lair, leaving Connie standing by the doorway. After he'd slammed the door shut after us, I seated myself in the guest chair and watched as Vinnie plopped into his seat behind the desk. "Thanks for coming on such short notice, Manoso. I've got something that you and the rest of your hooligans'll love."

He slapped a manila folder with some writing on the tab down onto his desk, directly in front of me. "What's this?"

"Edward Jernigan. FTA. One million big ones. He's about as dangerous as they come."

I opened the folder and took a look at Jernigan's picture. He appeared vindictive and cutthroat, sick and demented. "What'd he do?" I questioned hesitantly, not really wanting to know but asking because it was part of my job.

"Killed his wife."

Fuck. "And they gave him a bond?"

Vinnie lit a cigarette and blew the smoke off his nose. "Judge Singleton. Nothin' but a big softie."

I shook my head. "The guy looks insane."

Vinnie grinned slowly. "That's where you come in." He smashed his newly-lit cigarette down into an ashtray and sat back in his chair. "I want you, Tank, Santos, and Brown looking for this mentally-ill mess. I want him brought in to me, dead or alive."

I cleared my throat. "Santos no longer works for me."

Vinnie sat up in his chair like he'd been shot out of a cannon. "What? You're kiddin' me. Nobody's told me this. What the hell happened?"

"Just...some differences of opinion, that's all."

"This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with my cousin out there, would it?" Vinnie gestured towards the closed blinds covering the window of his inner office. I assumed that Stephanie and Lula were probably on the other side of the window, either trying desperately to listen into the conversation or trying valiantly to keep themselves from eavesdropping. "She told me she quit working for you just the other day. Something about a distraction job from hell. You suspended her for it. That's when she decided she wasn't goin' back."

"No, that's not it."

"Aw. Forget about it. I can't believe this." Vinnie, frustrated, ran a hand across his greasy, shiny hair. "You'd better do something about those differences of opinion with Santos, then. I'm not givin' you this guy if he ain't on your team. He's my accomplished marksman, for Christ's sake! I've never seen a kid handle a weapon as good as him. I'm counting on his sniper expertise to get this asshole."

"I try not to make a habit of re-hiring problem employees, Vinnie."

"Well, make it your new hobby. Either the four of you work together to get this nutcase, or I'm giving the file to Sebring's lunatic bounty hunters. Now, I know they won't do nearly _half_ as good a job as you four will, but I'm willing to give them a shot if you're not willing to meet me halfway."

"Vinnie -

Vinnie got in my face, invading my personal space. "Santos or nothin', Manoso."

Fuck.

"I'll have to sleep on it, Vinnie." I pushed Jernigan's folder across the desk and back over to Vinnie. "Give me twenty-four hours."

"Or else it's going to Sebring's goons," Vinnie replied darkly.

I narrowed my eyes. "Like I said. Give me twenty-four hours and I'll have an answer for you."

* * *

Stephanie was nowhere to be seen when I stepped out of Vinnie's inner office. Connie bustled up to me with her big-ass Jersey hair and red lipstick. I wondered, for a fleeting moment, how she managed to get her nail color and lipstick color to match perfectly.

"How'd it go?" she asked me, fiddling with the rings on her left hand.

"I'll have to let him know if we can take on the case," I replied. "By tomorrow."

Connie let out a sigh. "Good, good. Um, Stephanie's still here."

I feigned surprise. "Yeah?"

"She's out back, in the alley. She knows you're here, talking with Vinnie."

"Excuse me." I pushed past Connie and let myself out of the bail bonds office, into the brisk afternoon air. I turned the corner and ducked into the alley, where Stephanie was huddled against the stone wall. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her was head down. I wasn't sure if she was crying, and I wasn't nuts about finding out.

She heard my footsteps approach and lifted her head, only to grant me one hell of a scowl.

"What are you doing here, Ranger?" she muttered.

I cleared my throat. "I had a meeting with Vinnie."

"I know that. What are you doing _here_?"

I knelt down next to her. Her curls were hanging in her face, blocking her eyes from my view. "I came back here to see if you're okay."

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" she snapped.

I sighed. "You're not making this easy on me, babe."

Suddenly, Steph's head snapped up and the fury in her eyes nearly took my breath away. "You have absolutely no right to blame me for _any_thing, Ranger. Any problems that you're having, you've brought them on yourself."

"I realize that, Stephanie."

Steph stood up quickly and brushed her hair out of her eyes. "I was just leaving."

"Wait." I caught her arm and pulled her to a stop. She lost her balance and backed hard into the stone wall, the force of the hit making her gasp.

"I have nothing to say to you, Ranger. Lester has nothing to say to you. We're through. We're moving on."

I stared down at Stephanie intently. I was quiet for about ten seconds before saying, "I'm going to ask you again, and this time I want the truth. Not like last time, in my office, when I asked you before. Are you and Santos an item?" I demanded quietly.

"No," she scoffed, yanking her arm out of my grasp. "And if we were, you'd be the last fucking person to know."

"Nice," I mumbled, nodding my head knowingly. I was seething. "So you're just going around, kissing guys, trying to feel better about yourself because both Morelli and I are involved with other women and you're alone. Well, it's not that easy, Stephanie. People's feelings are involved."

Steph's eyes widened as she became outraged. "You asshole! Do you think it's been easy for me to see you with Lauren Marie?"

"And you think it's easy for me to see you with Santos?" I angrily exclaimed back. "Why him?"

Stephanie was silent as she contemplated what to say. "Because, Ranger," she said quietly. "He stepped up." With that, Steph pushed past me and stalked around the side of the building before I heard the bonds office door open and slam shut behind her.

* * *

I really didn't know where to go after I left Vinnie's. I knew didn't want to be home with Lauren Marie, engaging in polite, shallow conversation around one of Ella's pot roasts while the six o'clock news blared from the TV in the background. I didn't want to argue with her about how long I'd been gone, or where I'd been, or if I'd be away the next night, too. It just wasn't worth it.

My car drove, on autopilot, to one of the only places that I knew I could be alone at without anyone showing up or calling to bother me. I pulled into the underground garage of my rental apartment near the outskirts of town and aimed the Carrera at my numbered parking space. I locked up and took the elevator to the twelfth floor, where I had a large but modest abode overlooking the river.

Only the rental agent knows about this place, and he thinks my name is Richard Guevara.

"Home sweet hideaway," I mumbled to myself as I kicked off my boots and dropped my keys on the granite kitchen countertop. I settled down onto the plush leather couch and remoted on the plasma.

I knew I should be at Haywood with my son, helping Lauren Marie take care of him, but the thought going home to two people that I barely knew had me wishing I could stay in my riverside condo forever and never go back. And as horrible as this sounds, I found myself wishing that I would have never gotten myself into this situation in the first place. But I can't take it back. I don't want to take it back, because of my beautiful son.

Stephanie is the only woman that I've ever looked forward to going home to. When she had a nutcase stalker after her and needed a safe place to stay, she always chose my Haywood apartment. That's where she felt safe, I guess. And she wasn't wrong. I could protect her in so many ways. From the bad guys, from the monsters in her closet, from her own personal demons.

Santos is doing that now, I thought bitterly.

I missed them both, truly and a lot. More than I ever thought I could miss two people, other than my dad. And Jonathan.

But what's done is done. I had no reason to believe that Steph and Santos were seeing each other, but that kiss they'd shared in the hallway of my building looked like they'd done it before. And they probably hadn't stopped at just a kiss. Thinking about that notion made my stomach feel hollow and shrunken, like I'd just taken a blow to the gut from Ali.

So I thought about Lauren Marie instead. The same hollow, shrunken feeling in my gut persisted, and I knew right then and there that I was well and truly unhappy. It wasn't a comforting realization. The thought of being married to someone that I'm only with because she had our child caused my breathing to quicken and nausea to set in.

I made it to the bathroom in just time. I vomited into the toilet and dry-heaved for a solid five minutes, wondering if I might as well flush my life as I knew it down the toilet along with my lunch. I wiped myself down and rinsed out my mouth before returning to the living room and stretching out on the sofa in just my cargoes and socks, the cool leather against my back soothing me for the time being.

I made the decision to do what I knew was best for my son. And for my son, I knew I needed to do the right thing. He deserves a mother and a father who love each other and are married and are both on the same parenting team. Not near-perfect strangers who spent one night together and will pay for it for the rest of their lives.

As much as I didn't want to do what I was about to go home and do, I knew it was for the best.

* * *

I left my private apartment at around eight that evening, after spending hours pondering the decision I'd made. I knew in my heart of hearts that it was the right one. My car rumbled through the underground garage as it sought out the exit, bursting into the cool night air as soon as the yellow gate arm had been lifted.

_Richard Guevara, _my neighbors were probably thinking. _Going out for a night spin. _

I pulled into Haywood at a little before nine. Junior was at the underground garage checkpoint, so I nodded to him through the windshield of the Carrera and held a hand up as he let me through. I parked took a moment to sit in the quiet of my car, trying to find some reason to keep Lauren Marie living in my apartment and not finding a single one.

After several long minutes, I gathered the courage that I knew I had deep inside and exited my car. I headed towards the elevator and waited, with a heavy heart, as the lift descended from the fifth floor.

When I got off on seven, I fobbed open the door to the apartment I shared with Lauren Marie and our son. To my complete surprise, three large suitcases and some baby gear were stacked up in the foyer.

"Lauren?" I called, shutting myself inside and gaping at the luggage. "We need to talk."

"Carlos," she said breathlessly, coming into the foyer from the living room. She was fully-dressed in a coat and heels, a scarf wrapped around her neck. "I thought you'd be home earlier."

"Where are you going? What's with the suitcases and baby gear?" I asked her.

Lauren Marie took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. "Let's go into the living room," she suggested quietly. "The baby's sleeping in the bedroom."

I followed the mother of my child and sat down across from her, in a recliner. I rested my elbows on my knees and held my breath while I waited to hear what she had to say to me.

Lauren Marie took a deep breath. "I'm taking the baby to Sacramento," she said, her voice wavering.

A rock settled into my stomach. I was stunned. Speechless.

"I have family there who will help me take care of him. My mother lives there, and my sister. I know that this isn't the kind of life that you want to have, Carlos. With me, and a baby, and all kinds of responsibilities. You don't need this in your life. I don't want to hold you back from anything that you had planned for your future."

I finally found my voice several minutes after she'd stopped speaking. "You're taking my son away from me," I stated, not really believing the words that were coming out of my mouth. "To California."

Lauren Marie nodded tearfully. "I hate to do this, Carlos. I really hate it. But I think it would be best for all of us."

I nodded and stood up. "So. Sacramento. That's pretty far, don't you think? I mean, I was just going to suggest that you and the baby find a place here in Trenton, where I can easily help you if you need it and see the baby whenever I can. I didn't have California in mind when I thought that plan out. Am I really that bad of a father that you have to take him three thousand miles away?"

Lauren Marie jumped up. "Carlos, that's not what I'm saying. Please, don't think that for a minute!"

"But you're right," I continued. "Me being gone all the time isn't what's best for you or the baby. You need someone around at all times to help out, and I won't always be here. And Sacramento is where your mom and sister live, so it makes sense for you to go there."

"So you understand why I'm doing this then, Carlos," Lauren said quietly, approaching me and folding her arms around my body. I stood with my hands at my sides, unable to return her gesture.

"I have to."

"Carlos." Lauren looked up at me with watery eyes, full of several silent questions. "Do you love me?"

I peered down at her. "Yes, because you're the mother of my son."

"No," she whispered. "Are you in love with me?"

Images of a smiling Stephanie burst into my vision, and I could see her, clear as day, giggling and looking up at me with her big brown eyes. The sound of her laughing lifted my spirit and made everything around me seem crisper, brighter. My heart swelled with emotion and all I could smell was her perfume as it wafted into my nostrils, tickling my nose. Her voice was like music to my ears.

And suddenly, Stephanie was gone, but the smile I had been wearing in the vision carried over to real life.

I smiled sadly down at Lauren Marie. "No. I'm not."

Lauren Marie returned my sad smile and nodded. She turned slowly and walked into the bedroom. When she emerged, she was carrying our son in a tiny blue carseat. She looked up at me and closed her eyes briefly before letting them flutter back open.

"Thank you for our son."

I cleared my throat, trying to get rid of the lump that had formed at the sight of my baby boy being carried out of my life. "You'll let me know if you need anything from me?"

Lauren Marie nodded. "Visit whenever you like," she said. "I'll send pictures, I'll call. I'll email."

"Please," I replied. "That would mean a lot to me."

The intercom in the foyer crackled to life. "There's an airport limousine here at the gate, Bossman," Junior announced over the speaker. "The driver says he's here to pick up Lauren Marie and the baby and some luggage."

I looked at Lauren Marie and then down to our son, and felt my eyes begin to water and the lump in my throat begin to grow bigger. I looked back at Lauren and managed to say, "Let him in."

"Ten-four, Bossman."

"What about your luggage?" I rasped to Lauren Marie.

"I'll send the airport limousine driver up to get them. You don't have to worry."

Lauren Marie Candelaria gathered her purse and the baby seat in her hands. She turned to the foyer and slowly walked up to the front door. I stayed behind in the living room, hands in pockets and very heavy-hearted.

"Goodbye, Carlos."

* * *

As one door in my life closed, I realized that some things will never change. My newborn son, barely out of the hospital, was on his way to a plane that would take him to a new life in California, a life that clearly would not include me. His own father. I wasn't upset by the fact that Lauren Marie, a woman I barely got the chance to know, or fall in love with, was walking out of my life.

I felt as though everyone I was once close to had abandoned me and all I was left with was a crusty blue hospital bracelet and a few photographs that marked the birth of a life I'd had a hand in creating. And two empty slots on my RangeMan payroll, marking the disemployment of two people who have had such a huge impact on my company. And on my life.

God, my life was shit without Stephanie in it. I wanted to tell her that it was all okay now, that the feelings I once had for her had never, ever left. I wanted to see Santos, to tell him that he was still my best friend and always would be and had never stopped being one of the men I knew I trusted most in this world. I wanted to tell them both that it was okay that they'd made out and had sex or whatever the fuck else they did after they left my building on that awful morning. The morning that may have ruined things between the three of us forever.

I wanted to tell them that I was glad that they'd found happiness in each other; and that I'm doing okay without them.

But I wasn't doing okay.

The harsh words I'd exchanged with Santos still rung in my ears, and it had already been three days since all the shit went down. Since the day part of me died inside and I managed to lose two of the people who are closest to me in this world.

_All she's looking for is the chance to be happy. _I kept hearing Tank say those words to me as he reamed me a new asshole down in my office, looking to blame my feelings for Stephanie and my jealously towards Santos on the fact that two of his fellow co-workers and close friends would no longer work with him.

You're right, Tank. You got the answer you came in there looking for. I was jealous, and I let it control the decision I made.

Time to step up, Manoso. Be the bigger man. Admit you were wrong. I thought about Lester, probably sitting at home and no doubt wondering where in the fuck he'll find a decent job that paid him half as much as what I was paying him. I didn't want him to go through that anymore.

I thought of Stephanie, of the goodness in her heart and of her quest for happiness. I didn't want to be the cause of her misery. I didn't want her to go through that anymore.

I thought of Vinnie's offer, and the million-dollar account it would mean for RangeMan if we were to capture Jernigan. I couldn't do it without my team. And my team, for shit's sake, included Santos. I wouldn't have it any other way.

I picked up my cell phone and hit speed dial #3. When the connection was made and the gruff greeting was barked, I took a deep breath and let it out.

"Santos. It's me. For the love of God, please don't hang up."


	8. Chapter 8

**Lester's POV**

My cell's ringtone blasted through the restaurant at near full volume, scaring me half to death as I sliced into a juicy cut of ribeye.

I dropped my fork and knife onto my plate with a clatter and fumbled in my jeans pocket with greasy fingers to locate the damn thing. Not bothering to look at the caller ID, I hit the talk button and gruffed out, "What?"

"Santos. It's me. For the love of God, please don't hang up."

Fuck me in the _ass_ with a tree branch. It was Ranger.

I debated hanging up anyway but my fucking conscience wouldn't let me. I found myself sighing and, a few moments later, replying, "What do you want?"

"Is this a bad time?" he asked me after a brief pause.

I glanced across the table at my dinner companion. She was looking at me questioningly with her big blue eyes, but I shook my head and turned back to the phone.

"Yeah, it is," I replied darkly. "I'm at Pete's with Stephanie."

Ranger cleared his throat and I could practically feel the pulsations of anger radiating from his end of the airwaves. "I'd like to talk with you after you're finished with dinner," he said, clearly controlling the rage in his voice, no doubt at the thought of me out on a date with Ms. Plum.

"About?"

"I'd rather not do this over the phone, Santos."

I felt myself grow increasingly frustrated. My steak was getting cold, and my patience was wearing thin. "Look, man. I don't work for you anymore. Who are you to call me and make demands? I've got nothing to say to you, and neither does Stephanie."

A few moments of silence ensued, followed by, "Fair enough. I'll leave you and your date to finish your dinner. When you're ready to talk, my door will be open."

"Yeah," I choked out on a strangled, mirthless chuckle. "Later, man." I disconnected and slid my BlackBerry back into my jeans pocket.

When I looked across the table at Stephanie, her mouth was hanging open in shock. "Was that _Ranger_?" she stage-whispered.

I proceeded to cut into my lukewarm steak and stared across the table at her. "Said he wants to talk to me."

"Did he say why?" Steph asked incredulously.

I shook my head. "He'd rather not discuss it over the phone." I forked a bite of steak into my mouth and chewed. "I'm not sure what he wants, and unless something seriously horrible's happened, I really don't give a shit."

Stephanie sipped her Coke. "I just can't even think about all of this anymore, Lester. It's making me crazy. _He's _making me crazy. All I want is for everyone to just leave us alone, so that we can sort things out, and try to make sense of things. I know it's only been a few days, but I'm just so _tired_." Steph's eyes sagged and although I knew she was having a hard time, I found her pitiful facial expression incredibly endearing.

I smiled and leaned across the table to capture her soft lips with mine in a brief kiss. "I know, beautiful," I said softly when I'd pulled away. "I hear you. I really do. I feel the same way."

"And you start that new job tomorrow," she continued. "Thanks to Tank."

Tank had called me earlier that morning and said he knew of someone who was looking to hire a consultant for their weapons distribution company. I'd called the company right after hanging up with Tank, spoke directly with the hiring manager, and hung up ten minutes later with a tentative position in their sales department. Since I'm a self-proclaimed firearms guru, I'd immediately been given top priority due to my experience in munitions and an awesome recommendation from Tank himself.

I seriously owed him, big-time.

"I'll get health insurance after three months," I said, before gulping the last of my Corona. "And dental insurance, life insurance, and a 401k and all that good stuff."

"You were getting all those same benefits with RangeMan," Steph pointed out.

"I know," I replied, taking the dinner check out of the little black folder. I dug out my wallet and removed a few twenties. "But what if one of my teeth rots out of my head from now until April? Or I break a leg walking or something before my new insurance kicks in?"

Stephanie's lips formed a wry grin. "Your RangeMan insurance won't expire until the end of this month, so you have a week or so to rot your teeth out and crack your leg bones."

I couldn't help but smile back. Christ, I'm so head over heels for this woman. She makes me laugh even when I feel like shit about myself. "I've got some health insurance benefits left over from when I was in the Army, but very limited coverage because I'm not active duty anymore. And it sucks."

Steph smiled sympathetically at me. "It'll be okay, Lester."

"God, you're amazing," I groaned, standing up and pulling her to her feet once I'd stuck the cash into the black folder for our server. I drew her face to mine and pressed my lips to hers, right in the middle of the steakhouse and not caring who the hell decided to watch. "I'd better actually get some sleep tonight. I've got to be at Am-Tech by seven tomorrow morning."

Steph grimaced. "That is entirely too early for Stephanie Standards."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah. I know." I grabbed her hand. "Come on, I'll take you home."

I threw my arm around her shoulders and hugged Steph to me as we strolled out to my Escalade, enjoying the chill of the night air and the tiny flurries of snowflakes that were landing and melting on our overcoats.

"Thanks for dinner," she said, smiling up at me with her perfect white teeth and full pink lips.

"Anytime, gorgeous." I kissed her forehead and sighed. "Ugh. I'm a corporate monkey now. I haven't worn a non-Army-issued tie since George Bush was President."

"The father or the son?" she joked.

I looked at her. "Damn, Steph. I'm not _that_ old."

* * *

I carried an expensive leather briefcase into the Am-Tech offices at exactly seven o'clock on the dot the following morning, intent on spanking my initial pre-hiring meeting interview with the manager who'd given me the job over the phone. Although I pretty much had the position, I still needed to make a good impression and I may or may not be forced to turn on the Santos Charm in order to do so. I had to be prepared.

"May I help you?" the front-desk receptionist asked as soon as I walked up to her.

"I'm Lester Santos," I replied. "I'm supposed to start work this morning."

"Let me get Mr. Aviles," she said, rising from her chair and then disappeared behind a door. A few minutes later, she returned to the desk. "Have a seat, Mr. Santos. He'll be right out."

"Thank you." I lowered myself into a waiting room chair and swung my briefcase onto my lap. It was pretty light, considering I had absolutely nothing at all to put in it besides a pack of gum and a thin folder containing my resume, which stated clearly that a Mr. Robert Brown was my former supervisor at RangeMan Enterprises and listed his personal cell number as his office phone.

If Aviles ever figured this out, I'd be in deep shit.

"Lester," boomed a voice, breaking me from my thoughts. "Come on in." Mr. Aviles was standing at the door, wearing a gray suit and a huge smile.

I stood up and moved to shake his hand. "Good to meet you, sir," I replied.

"Likewise. Let's head over to your office, and we'll get things started."

I have an _office_? Well, hot damn.

Mr. Aviles led me to a bank of portioned-off phone cubicles, much like the ones we'd used to call home from Afghanistan.

"Is this where the tech support representatives are stationed?" I asked Mr. Aviles, motioning with my arm in a sweeping motion to the rows and rows of cordoned-off phones and task chairs. Some larger offices lined the far wall, and I couldn't wait to get into one of them and set down my briefcase. Maybe kick back in the large leather wing-backed chair and look out at the view over Downtown Trenton...order a desk nameplate from Things Remembered...call Beautiful from my multi-line phone and leave a message so that the front-desk receptionist could "patch" her through to me when she called back...

Mr. Aviles chuckled and led me over to a tiny cubicle near the front of the phone bay. "This will be your station, Lester," he said grandly, patting the cloth task chair and smiling broadly.

Okay, so I had a multi-line phone and that was about it. And an uncomfortable-looking plastic headset. No view of Downtown Trenton, no room for a nameplate because I had no fucking desk, and probably no privileges for the receptionist to patch me calls.

I paused. This wasn't looking good at all. "What _exactly_ will my job responsibilites be, Mr. Aviles?"

"You'll be telemarketing firearm insurance," he replied, confused. "I thought I explained this over the phone to you yesterday."

"No," I said slowly. "You told me I'd be in firearm sales. You were interested in the fact that I have experience with weapons and that I'd been in the military for eight years. You didn't say anything about sticking me in a room with sixty other dingbats while we work our asses off to sell gun insurance to everyone in America who owns a weapon."

Mr. Aviles looked uneasy. "Technically, I said sales _department_. I hadn't yet told you _exactly_ what you'd be selling, Lester. And a little FYI: we also sell gun insurance to firearms owners in Canada and Mexico. Just for future reference."

I was beyond pissed by that point. "Well_ technically_, I should give a two-weeks notice to you before I quit. But I'm giving you a two-second notice because of your shitty interpersonal skills and deceptive tactics."

"I haven't even officially hired you yet!"

"Save HR from some paperwork, then," I growled. I whipped my briefcase off of my "station" and knocked the phone and headset off the table in the process, as an added bonus.

I was abso-fucking-lutely going to kill Tank.

* * *

"There will be others," Stephanie soothed, running her little fingers through my thick, toussled spikes as I bitched and moaned to her on the couch. My head was in her lap and my feet were hanging over the arm of the sofa. _Forgetting Sarah Marshall _was playing on the plasma, but neither of us were watching it.

"I can't believe this shit," I groaned for what had to have been the hundredth time since I'd left Am-Tech that morning. "Why does all the crazy shit happen to me?"

Steph was laughing silently because I felt her stomach vibrating against my cheek. I lifted my head and, sure enough, she was turning red from holding in her chuckles.

"I'm so sorry, Les," she gasped, trying to get control. "But you have to admit that it's a little bit comical."

I frowned and buried my face back into her belly. "So I got duped by some big-wig at a weapons distribution company. What's next? Is somebody gonna chain me naked to the giant TV in Times Square and throw tomatoes at me?"

Steph was full-on laughing by that point, and God help me, it was contagious. I began snickering so hard into her tee shirt that my eyes were tearing and my nose was running. Soon we were laughing so hard that our sides hurt, and barely heard the doorbell ring.

I quickly sobered and walked shirtless over to my front foyer. Through the peep hole, I could see Tank's bald head shining in my porch light. Shit. I threw the locks and opened the door.

"Tank," I remarked. "Everything okay?"

He nodded and stepped past me as he entered my townhouse. Steph had gotten up off the couch and had pulled on flannel pajama pants before coming to join Tank and I in the foyer.

"Hey, Bombshell," Tank boomed, sweeping Stephanie into a tight hug as I shut and locked the front door.

"What brings you here, Tank?" Steph asked as soon as he set her back down onto her feet. I led the way into the living room and listened to Tank's bootsteps thud on the Spanish tile as he followed me.

My stomach was getting queasy and I was betting that this probably wasn't a social call. Either he was sent here by Ranger, or he was the bearer of really bad news. Now I know how my mother must have felt when the Casualty Assistance Officers drove up her street, and I could just imagine her crossing herself when they'd passed by her house without pulling into the driveway. It was a shitty feeling. I immediately felt immense relief that my parents never had to deal with that when I was active duty infantry in the Army.

When we were all seated on the couches in the living room, Tank cleared his throat. "First of all, before you ream me a new asshole, Santos, I want to apologize for what happened to you this morning at Am-Tech. I heard all about it from Brown. If I would have known more details about the open position, I never would have recommended you to them. I've only dealt with Rick Aviles one other time, and that was because he hit my work vehicle with his 'Vette in the parking lot of Luigi's a week ago."

"That explains it," I muttered. "The guy was a real schmuck. I wanted to kick your ass to Cambodia this morning."

Tank boomed with laughter. "And I wouldn't have stopped you." He quickly sobered. "That's not why I'm here, though."

Yep. I knew it. Here it comes. Ranger's Angel of Destruction, here to do his dirty work.

I narrowed my eyes at Tank and pursed my lips. "What does he want?" I asked quietly.

Tank sighed. "A lot has happened over the past few days, Santos."

"Like?"

"For starters, Jeanne Ellen Burrows came into RangeMan the day you quit for a working interview to fill Stephanie's position." I heard Steph's breath hitch when she learned the news, but she stayed quiet. Tank continued, "But it didn't last long. She and the boss were butting heads an hour into the afternoon. One thing led to another, and before we all knew it she was gathering up her purse and jacket and was storming down to the underground garage at top speed."

"Hunh," Steph muttered.

"The day after you guys quit, Ranger held auditions for your open position because none of the other guys wanted to step up and fill your spot on the core team. They were saying that it was tainted, or some shit, because that position was yours and always will be. So Ranger called a bunch of idiots into the building who had applications on file and held try-outs for the opening. Only two guys actually showed up, and they proved to be such a joke that Ranger just waved his hands and tossed all of the apps into his shredder."

Steph and I had grown silent, waiting for Tank to continue.

"Anyway, Ranger went to a meeting with Vinnie Plum yesterday and learned that a high-bond skip, Edward Jernigan, is on the loose and needs hauled back to the clink. Vinnie found out that you weren't working for RangeMan anymore, and pretty much went apeshit. He threatened to give the file to Les Sebring's idiot bounty hunters because of all this."

"You're kidding," I remarked. "That's probably why Ranger called me last night, then."

Tank took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "There's more. Yesterday evening, Lauren Marie hopped on a one-way plane bound for Sacramento. She took the baby with her."

I felt my stomach drop and Stephanie's gasp rang in my ears. She clutched my arm and covered her mouth with her hand, in shock. I could barely hear Tank continuing over the sound of the blood pounding through the veins in my head. "Wha - what, she - holy fuck." I was immediately rendered speechless.

"Poor Ranger," Stephanie blubbered. "This is such a shock."

"Did she say why?" I managed to say, once I got my vocal cords functioning again.

Tank nodded. "They're not in love with each other. Ranger's lifestyle was a huge problem for Lauren Marie, even from the beginning. When the baby came, things just got worse. She's got family out in California, to help her. She told Ranger that she doesn't want him to be out of the baby's life, but that she can't continue living with a partner who puts his career first and his family second. Truthfully, I think this is probably what needed to happen. I could never in a million years see Ranger being a bad father, but he's right when he says that his lifestyle doesn't lend itself to relationships or responsibilities."

This was a huge load to take in. While my heart ached for Ranger, and for his son, the sorrow didn't quite outweigh the anger and resentment that I still felt towards him. Stephanie was sobbing noiselessly beside me, and I reached over and gathered her into my arms before kissing her messy curls.

"It'll be okay, beautiful," I soothed quietly. "Everything'll be fine."

Tank rubbed his face with his hands. "Ranger didn't ask me to come here and tell you all of this. I'm sure that if he knew I was here, spilling my guts, he'd be pretty upset. But I thought you both should know. And Santos, I'm here as a friend to both you and Stephanie. Ranger's pride and dignity will keep him from begging, but I'm asking you as one friend and coworker to another to help us out while we take down Jernigan. You don't have to do it as a favor to him, or because you want your job back, but do it for me. And for Bobby, and Hal, and Cal, and the rest of the idiots over there who still love you and care about you. For fuck's sake, man, just think about it. Please."

It was as though a rock had settled into my stomach. I buried my face in my hands as I rested my elbows on my knees, and I felt Steph's warm little hand making circles on the bare skin of my back.

Several minutes passed before I lifted my head up. I focused my eyes on Tank's and my blank face slammed into place. "How long do I have to make a decision?" I asked quietly.

Tank looked at his watch. "Ranger has to give his answer to Vinnie by eight o'clock this evening, about whether or not you'll do the takedown with us. If Vinnie doesn't hear from him by eight, Sebring's knuckleheads get the file." Tank pressed his lips together. "It's a million-dollar bond, Santos. One hundred grand split four ways."

I narrowed my eyes. "You didn't answer my question, Tank."

"You have twenty minutes."

* * *

My black steel-toed Cat combat boots created tremendous echoes when I stepped heavily, especially in tiled hallways and empty warehouses. I enjoyed the sound of the thuds as I thundered down the hallway, Tank at my side, as we headed towards Ranger's office.

Tank and I stormed into the suite labeled R. Carlos Manoso and stood at parade rest in front of the desk that belonged to the man himself.

"I'm not doing this for you, Carlos. Keep that in mind," I said darkly. "I could use twenty-five grand right about now. The guys need me, too. And hell will freeze over before I take any God-damned orders from you, either. It's my way, or the fucking highway."

Ranger simply smirked at me as he picked up his cell. "Well, then, this will be _your_ operation. I trust that you'll see it through to the end. And nice timing, by the way, Santos. It's seven fifty-seven."

I leaned over Ranger's desk and got up close and personal. "Make the fucking call," I growled.

It was now eight-thirty. Connie had rushed Jernigan's file directly over to Hector down in the lobby of the building, who ran it up to two. When Hal and Junior had located Jernigan's whereabouts, they immediately began forwarding information to our cell phones and laptops.

"He's at Buddy Shamrock's," Cal informed me over my cell. I was standing shirtless down in the locker room, trying to find my Kevlar vest. I located it behind some outdated takedown equipment near the storage room and began ripping open the Velcro straps. "We'll have to set everything up for a distraction job."

"Shit," I breathed out in frustration. "There's no way Steph'll want to do this."

The locker room door opened and in sauntered a woman wearing a tight black miniskirt, a creamy pink sweater with a plunging vee neckline, and black four-inch fuck-me heels. Her brown curls were soft and cascaded down her back in thick waves. Her eye makeup was slightly on the heavy side, but still looked incredible. Her luscious pink lips matched her sweater and it was all I could do not to drop my BlackBerry onto the cold cement floor.

"Let me call you back," I growled to Cal and then tossed the phone onto one of the wooden benches. My hands were twitching at my sides and suddenly my mouth went dry.

"Bobby called me earlier, after you and Tank left," she stated, by way of explanation of her presence. "Said he was pretty sure I'd be needed as a distraction for the takedown. I wasn't going to do it at first, but I thought what the hell." Steph smiled wryly.

"What changed your mind, beautiful?" I husked out.

Steph grinned a naughty grin. "Knowing I'd probably get to see you like_ this_." On the word _this_, she traced her fingertip down my bare abdomen from my belly button to the low waistline of my pants and belt.

I came at Stephanie and had her up against the storage room door in under three seconds. "You know what you're doing, gorgeous?"

She nodded slowly, her eyes darkened to midnight blue and her cheeks flushed with arousal. "Yeah," she whispered. "I do."

_Fuck. _I watched her trembling hands as she undid the belt holding my black BDUs on my body, and waited while she slid it out of my belt loops at an ungodly slow speed. I threw my head back and squeezed my eyes shut as I hissed, every nerve ending in my body on fire as I fought to keep control. I felt her unsnap the button on my fly and rasp down the zipper, and my impeccable control finally snapped as I roughly grabbed her hands and placed them on either side of my hips.

I lifted her easily against the door and waited impatiently while she lifted her legs to hang down over my forearms. "Don't hold back," I rasped. "I want you screaming my name." I ground my hard length against the warmth of her wetness, eager to start filling her.

"Getting a little show-offy?" she teased as she fought to keep her breathing steady.

"You might say that." I kept her balanced with one hand while I used the other to slide her miniscule thong down her silky thighs. As soon as her bare, wet folds were centered directly over where they needed to be, I braced myself and began to push into her. Heat shot down my legs. My stomach muscles clenched and tightened in anticipation. My tongue suddenly felt like it was too big for my mouth, and I began to sweat. I had to stop or I'd ruin everything.

She felt too damn good. Too damn good.

I felt Stephanie's gaze on me before I opened my eyes. "Give me a reason to scream your name, Lester," she whispered shakily.

That got me going. I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers as I drew all the way out and slammed back into her again.

"You want it harder, baby?" I grit out.

Steph nodded. "Don't hold back, Lester," she breathed, a hint of a teasing smile on her beautiful face.

Fine. I won't. I buried myself inside of her to the hilt over and over again, hearing the smooth wooden door rattle on its hinges as I pounded up into her. Steph's sighs and cries were music to my ears. The familiar swirling tension was making its way into my groin, and I knew I was close. I held Stephanie with one arm and brought my right hand around to the point where our bodies were joined. I wanted her coming with me.

"Come with me, beautiful," I groaned against her silky, sweet-smelling neck. I placed my thumb lightly over her swollen clit and pressed down, causing her gasp as I pumped in and out of her. The incredible tension in my groin was becoming unbearable and I felt myself going over the edge. I pressed down harder on Steph's clit and grit out, "Now, Steph."

I felt her clamping around me like a vise, and the sensation was so out of this world that I was unaware of everything else but how the current fifteen seconds were causing me to feel. Steph let out a cry of pleasure and instead of screaming my name, she whispered it against my cheek like a quiet mantra, over and over again as she rode out the wave.

All I heard was our labored breathing echoing off the cement walls of the locker room as we panted to catch our breaths, each of us completely satisfied and humming from the waist down. I slipped out of Stephanie and set her down onto her feet before I wrapped my arms around her and drew her face up to mine.

"Okay, so the screaming thing didn't really work," I said wryly. "Did that suck or something?" I was still hard, my length pressing up against her stomach under her pink sweater. Surprisingly, my BDUs stayed up over my ass and didn't slide to the ground as I pistoned in and out of Stephanie. Thank God for small favors.

Steph laughed and pulled my head down for a kiss. When her lips touched mine, they were soft and gentle, not hot and demanding like they'd been just minutes earlier. "No, that did _not _suck. It was incredible. I don't know, Lester. I never know how I'm going to react to an orgasm. Sometimes I get loud, other times I'm quiet. It's really nothing I can control all that well."

I smirked. "So the quieter you are, the better it feels then?"

"No," she chided, smacking me lightly on the arm. "That's not the case. It really just depends."

"Oh," I said, feeling slightly wounded.

Steph was looking up at me. "Will this help?" Suddenly, she puffed out her chest and opened her mouth to yell. "_LESSSSTEEEEEERRR!_"

Holy fuck. I'd just gone deaf. My fucking ears were ringing. "Um, Steph -

"Was that a little much?" Steph asked, frowning and grimacing.

I bent down to kiss her. "Yeah. But it was music to my ears." I smiled and kissed her again. And it was probably the last bit of music that my poor ears would ever hear again.

"You should get ready," Steph said to me. "The guys might be wondering where we are."

"Let them wonder." I held Stephanie's face in my hands as I kissed her, slow and deep, and felt her arms wind around my neck and her hands slither into my hair. I moved my hands to her trim waist as I felt myself grow thick and hard again against her bare belly.

Neither of us heard the locker room door open and bootsteps thud over to where we were standing.

"Ahem," a voice crackled.

We stopped cold.

"Everyone's waiting on you two," Ranger gruffed out.

Stephanie had buried her face in the crook of my shoulder. I dared to look over at Ranger and saw him standing with his huge arms crossed over his chest. A shit-eating smirk was spread across his lips.

"Give us, like, two minutes," I managed to gasp out. There was no way I'd be able to pull away now. I had a hard-on the size of Texas and it was smushed into Stephanie's stomach.

"Roger that." Ranger turned to leave and then stopped halfway to the locker room door. He turned back to Steph and I. "I'm going to ask this for a third time."

Stephanie interrupted him, exasperated. "Yes, Ranger," she exclaimed, lifting her head to stare at him. "For the love of God. We're clearly an item. _Please_ stop asking that. We know it'll be awhile before you can accept it, but just at least try. We've all got a job to do tonight. We won't let you down." Steph blew out a sigh when she was done with her rant.

Ranger stared at her with his blank face. Slowly, a hint of a smile cracked on his lips. He turned to me and grew serious again.

"You break her heart, I'll break your neck."

With that, he turned on his boot heel and thudded out of the locker room, slamming the door shut behind him.

I turned to Stephanie. "So. We're an item." I smiled. "I think I like the sound of that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." I kissed her gently. "I do."

"Let's go throw Jernigan's ass back into the slammer and then, maybe later, we can do some more stuff that people who are items do."

I kissed her again. "I like the sound of that, too."

* * *

Edward Jernigan sat in between Tank and I, shackled, Tased, and completely miserable. He had snot running down his face from the nerve gas we'd blasted him with, barbs from the Taser clinging to the hairy skin of his cruddy back, and a split lip from where he'd gone down and landed directly on the edge of the curb. He'd also bitten his tongue and now talked like he'd just had dental work done.

"My mouth hurth. You're all motherfuckerth," he lisped. "Every latht one of you athholes."

"If you'd shut the fuck up and quit talking, maybe your mouth wouldn't hurt _tho_ bad." I'd had it up to here with this guy. He reeked of beer and body odor and I was afraid that having him in the back of my Escalade would make my car permanently smell, like Jerry Seinfeld's did after he let the valet drive it.

Jernigan harrumphed and scooted away from me, closer to Tank. Tank, ever polite and non-confrontational for the most part, simply turned his head to look in another direction. I had my Glock pressed to Jernigan's neck, and in the event that he should try and make a move that would end up getting us all killed, I was ready with my finger near the trigger. Jernigan squirmed in his seat, periodically knocking into me and digging his bony elbow into my hip.

"Give me one reason to pull this trigger," I hissed to Jernigan. "Try something stupid."

"You don't have the ballth," Jernigan smarted back.

I became enfuriated and jammed the barrel of the gun further into his carotid, but I felt Ranger's eyes boring into my skull from the front seat.

"Santos," he began to warn darkly, but quickly stopped himself when I snapped my head up and I gave him a death glare.

"I'll do it, boss." Tank turned to me and warned, "Santos."

I stared at Tank. "Seriously?"

We unloaded Jernigan at the TPD cop shop downtown. Joe Morelli sauntered down the walkway from the rear of the building, grinning all the while. He was followed by Carl Costanza and Eddie Gazarra.

"What have you got there, Manoso?" Morelli questioned, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"A little treat for you all," Ranger replied, dragging Jernigan over to Carl and Eddie. "Edward Jernigan."

"Nice work, gentlemen." Morelli grinned and ran the fingers of his left hand through his hair. I caught the glint of his wedding band in the street light, wondering how in the hell he'd gotten beautiful Robin Russell to actually settle down with him.

"He's a real knucklehead," Bobby warned as he handed Morelli Jernigan's paperwork. "Make sure you clean him up good. He smells like a corpse."

"Seems as though he's been fried up a little bit," teased Carl. "Got the Taser barbs still in him."

"I think he needs some medical attention," I spoke up. "He cut his lip and tongue pretty bad when he went down on the edge of that curb."

"Will do." Morelli headed into the building with Jernigan's paperwork as Carl and Eddie dragged Jernigan through the side entrance, near the docket lieutenant's desk.

Bobby, Tank, Ranger, and I loaded back up into my Escalade and I got behind the wheel. I let out a loud war whoop. "Man, that felt good," I exclaimed, starting up the truck and blaring out of the TPD parking lot. "I really missed this shit."

"It's been four days," Bobby pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah. But I think I was going through takedown withdrawls."

"Bullshit, Santos," laughed Tank.

Ranger cleared his throat over the noise. "Should we go out for a beer?"

The truck fell silent. Then, "A beer? Bossman? Are you sure you want to go out after all you've been through in the past twenty four hours?" Tank looked puzzled.

"Yeah. I think I need to. It would be good to get my mind off of things. Besides, shouldn't we celebrate Santos's return?"

My heart flipped. "My return?"

"Yeah. You did a good job tonight, leading the team in capturing Jernigan. I want you working for me again." Ranger cracked a grin from his seat next to me, on the passenger's side.

My mind was spinning. "I really don't know what to say."

"Just say you will, Santos," barked Bobby. Tank was beating his fists on the back of my seat as Bobby warbled out a very poor version of I Will Survive.

I laughed as I bounced around behind the wheel from the force of Tank's blows. "Fine, fine," I yelled over the noise. "Will you stop shaking my seat?"

"YES!" screamed Bobby. Tank gave my seat one final blow and reached over to rub his hands vigorously over my spikes.

"I knew he'd be back," Tank chuckled. "He couldn't survive without his team."

Ranger was smiling wryly. "He earned it. I'm proud of all of you."

After a chorus of awwws and fake sniffles, I whipped out my cell. "I'll see if Stephanie wants to join us. She should be done showering off Jernigan's cooties by now."

I put her on speakerphone when the connection was made. "I'll be there," she replied once I told her where we were going. "Let me just throw on some clothes and dry my hair."

"See you in a bit," I replied, and hung up. I caught a glimpse of Ranger watching me, but his eyes were soft.

* * *

We arrived at JoJo's a little before eleven. I snagged a table for five and we opened our menus while we waited for Steph. I was fucking _starving_.

"I could eat a horse," Bobby remarked. "Not that I would, though."

I scanned the menu and decided on some onion rings and a mushroom burger. After I'd told the waitress what I wanted, I shut my menu and looked around at the guys.

"This feels awesome," I said. "I can't tell you how messed up things have been the past few days."

"I heard about the Am-Tech screwup," Ranger spoke up. "That must have been rough."

I bit my lip and looked at Tank quickly before looking back at Ranger. "And Steph and I know about Lauren Marie, man. We're so sorry."

Ranger nodded. "It was for the best, Santos. I miss my son terribly, but I barely got the chance to become seriously attached. Things would have been even worse if Lauren and I'd have stayed together just for him."

"I hear you," I replied. "Believe me, I do." I looked at him. "We need to talk, you and I. The sooner the better."

Ranger nodded again. "I agree. But let's just enjoy the evening, okay? All differences aside."

"Sure."

Stephanie strolled up to the table in jeans and a cute black top. She smiled widely and kissed me on the cheek before taking off her coat and sliding into the booth next to me. "What'd I miss?"

"Not a whole hell of a lot," Tank admitted. "You hungry, Bomber?"

"Starved." Steph took a menu and scanned it, ultimately deciding on a mushroom burger with a side of onion rings.

"That's what I ordered," I told her after the waitress left.

Her eyes widened. "Yeah? Well, I guess we have good taste." She smiled happily.

"So. You guys." Bobby moved his finger back and forth between Steph and I. "When's the wedding?"

Steph's jaw dropped and I felt queasy. "Wedding?" I said nervously.

Bobby burst out laughing. "I'm only joking," he exclaimed. "But your faces!"

"Listen," I began. "When we're ready to be disgusting around you guys, you'll know it. Okay?"

"What do you mean?" Tank asked.

"It means that when I'm comfortable enough to stick my tongue down her throat in your presence, I will." I sipped my Corona and grinned.

Stephanie wrinkled her nose. "When you put it _that_ way, Lester," she remarked. "It makes me sound whorish."

I put my arm around her and pulled her close. "Relax, beautiful. I'm giving the guys a hard time." I kissed her just below her ear.

Ranger, who had been looking thoroughly mortified for the past two minutes, spoke up, "I heard from the guys that you'd been thinking about Delta again."

I nodded. "Yeah, but only if I couldn't find anything decent here in Trenton. But since I'm back on the team, I think my Delta days are definitely over." I took a swig of my beer and leaned back in my seat.

"You're still on contract, though, Santos. Anything can happen." Ranger pointed the neck of his Bud Light bottle at me before taking a swig.

"What does that mean?" Stephanie asked me, her blue eyes suddenly wide.

"It means that while it's highly unlikely, I could still get called up to go to combat at any time. Since I've gone almost two years without a call from my commanding officer, it most likely won't happen again. My contract is up in three months. After that, I won't get called at all."

"Oh," Stephanie said. "So kind of like Ranger, then?"

"Pretty much," Ranger spoke up. "Only I get called more than Santos does because I chose that option."

The food came then, and we all dug in.

Towards the end of the meal, my cell phone rang. It was a number that I didn't recognize, so I excused myself from the table and carried it outside of the restaurant to answer it.

"Santos," I barked.

"Lester. Lieutenant Colonel Rodgers here."

_Fuck. _I think I just jinxed myself.

* * *

**What will happen with Lester and the Lt. Colonel? Will he leave Steph to go fight overseas? Will she and Ranger have the chance to repair their friendship? Will Ranger ever be okay with Steph and Lester together? Find out in the next chapter! **

**Thank you to all who have read and reviewed! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey everybody, thanks for checking out chapter 9 of Step Up. It's a little lengthy but worth it in the end, I believe. Please drop me a line and let me know what you think of the chapter. I'd love to hear from all of you! **

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* * *

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**Steph's POV**

Ranger's veggie burger looked none too appetizing. Sure, it was brown like a hamburger was supposed to be, but the chunks of red and green poking out of the edges of it made it look more like a compost patty than a hearty portion of beef.

"How can you eat those things?" I asked him.

He shrugged and squirted a blob of brown mustard onto the last bite of his burger. "The body is a temple, babe."

"And I'm totally worshipping my fat cells right now." I bit into the last of my greasy mushroom burger and moaned in satisfaction.

"Steph." Ranger was looking at me from across the table, his expression serious. "We need to talk about tonight."

The glee that I'd been feeling while devouring my trans fat-loaded delicacy quickly faded and I found myself suddenly nervous and apprehensive. True, Ranger and I did need to talk. And not just about what had transpired over the course of the evening. The thought of discussing personal issues with him wasn't particularly pleasant, but I knew deep down that I owed him some sort of an explanation regarding Lester and I.

I sighed. "I'd rather not discuss things here, Ranger. Can it wait until the morning?"

"Depends. Will you be in your office at your usual time of 0900 hours?"

"Nope," I said, shaking my head. "I'm on suspension, remember?"

Ranger growled in frustration. "Forget that, Stephanie. I was an idiot. You did a fantastic job this evening, with the distraction and the takedown. And I know you didn't do it for me, and I know things between us are still a mess, but I want you to know that you did great tonight. And I want you back at RangeMan."

I was silent for several moments while I stared into Ranger's chocolate brown eyes, alternating between contemplating his offer of my job back and questioning his motives for suspending me in the first place. Finally, I said, "I'm not promising anything, Ranger. There are still many issues that we have to work through, and most of them have nothing to do with my performance at RangeMan."

"I understand that," he replied before sipping his water. "But I'd like to have the chance to make things right."

"Fair enough," I replied.

Lester approached the table and wordlessly slid into his seat at the booth, next to me. He looked awful, like he'd just gotten the worst news of his life. He thunked his elbows on the table and ran his hands over his face. After a few moments, he blinked and said, "I got called."

My stomach flip-flopped.

"What do you mean, you got called?" Tank demanded. "Who the hell was on the phone?"

Lester buried his face in his hands and when he spoke, his voice was muffled. "Lieutenant Colonel Rodgers."

"Fuck me," Bobby spat. "You're done in three months! What the hell?"

"Exactly," Lester groaned. "Which means I've still got three months left, which means they can still fucking call me if they need me."

This wasn't good. For as long as I'd known Lester Santos, he'd been called away on a mission only twice. Two times in four years. And both times, he'd gone with Bobby, and they were only gone for about a month. I knew that he and Bobby had been on Delta Force together during their last four years in the Army, and as far as I knew, Bobby hadn't received a call this time.

"Where are you going? How long will you be gone? When do you leave?" I asked Les, my mind whirling with questions that I knew he probably couldn't answer.

As I suspected, he was only able to tell me when he was leaving. "This morning," he said quietly, his voice cracking. "My plane leaves Newark for D.C. at 0900 hours. I've got pre-deployment meetings and other Army responsibilities at the Pentagon for most of the day, and from there I'll leave with Delta."

"Iraq?" I whispered.

Lester looked pained as he took my face in his hands. "I wish I could tell you, beautiful. I do. But I really can't."

I looked down at my empty plate. "I understand."

The guys, who had been silent since Bobby's outburst, finally began showing some signs of life. Tank reached over and rubbed my shoulder. Bobby, who was on the other side of me, put his arm around me and hugged me to him. Ranger reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

Suddenly, I began to feel extremely alone despite the fact that I was surrounded by a booth full of four other people. Unpleasant melting sensations were coursing through my veins and my fragile emotions were teetering over the edge of a cliff, threatening to fall overboard. It felt as though I was being abandoned, and although as silly as that sounds, it was somewhat true. What was I going to do without Lester? Our relationship had grown to the point of something really special in the last week. I was excited to see where it would lead us, and even happier that I was taking the journey with one of my best friends. And now, he was leaving.

As much as I wanted him to stay, I knew that it would be selfish and insensitive of me to make things hard on him before he left the country to go fight for it. And as proud and honored as I was for being with a man who's going off to war for our freedom, it didn't outweigh the anguish and the disappointment I was feeling at having him leave for an undetermined amount of time.

I was angry, hollow-chested, and heartbroken. All of the above. And I was feeling it all towards Lester. Absolutely none of this was his fault. Even though I wanted to blame him for my emotions, I knew I couldn't. I didn't want him to go, obviously. I was sort of hoping that since he and I had just started something together, and that he had his job at RangeMan back, he would have told his commanding officer to go fuck himself and that he's staying put in Trenton.

But no one says no to Uncle Sam.

The tears that I'd been holding in as soon as Les shared the details of his phone call threatened to spill over and I knew I had to get out of that booth before I became a slobbering idiot in front of the guys and Ranger.

"Bobby," I said quietly, turning to him. "Can you get up, please?"

Bobby, puzzled, immediately did as I asked and rose from the edge of the booth. He stepped aside and before anyone knew what was happening, I'd managed to slide out of the booth seat with my coat and purse and was now making my way to the front door of JoJo's, the tears overflowing onto my cheeks once my back was to the table.

I heard Lester frantically calling after me but I ignored him and kept walking. The tears were coming faster, and I let out a wholehearted sob as soon as I'd pushed open the front door of JoJo's and stepped into the chilly night air.

"I'll get her, Santos," I heard Ranger say from a few feet behind me. "Give her some time right now."

* * *

I'd managed to wrench the door of the Buick open and angle myself into the car by the time Ranger caught up with me. He walked around to the passenger's side and yanked the door handle as I fired up the ignition.

"Stephanie Plum," Ranger boomed darkly, crawling onto the bench seat just as I gunned the engine and rocketed away from the curb, causing him to flop into a squatting position on the seat and barely manage to get the door shut as we hogged down the street.

"This isn't a cab," I exclaimed angrily, my watery eyes focused on the road ahead.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" demanded Ranger.

I wiped a few black mascara-tears from my chin and sniffed. "Going to get a pedicure," I remarked snidely. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks to me like you're running away from a situation that didn't think you'd ever find yourself in, and you're not sure how to handle it." Ranger stared at the oncoming traffic. When he didn't get a reply, I saw him turn to face me in my peripheral vision. "I'm assuming I hit the nail on the head?"

I was silent for a few more beats before saying finally, "What if something happens to him over there, Ranger?"

Ranger ran his hands through his shoulder-length black hair and sighed deeply. "I'm not going to lie to you, babe. There's always that possibility."

"That's comforting," I muttered, cornering the Buick onto Hamilton.

We rode in silence for several miles, until we reached Woodland Street. I pulled through the entrance to Franklin Park and docked Big Blue in a space near the corner of the lot. I wordlessly jammed the driver's side door open and hauled myself out of the car before putting on my peacoat and slamming the car door shut. Ranger's actions mirrored my own, and he came around the car to stand at my side.

"What are we doing here?" he asked, looking around at the darkened lea.

"This is my thinking spot." I began walking over to one of the benches near a garden and plopped myself down.

Ranger followed with his hands in his pockets. "I thought your thinking spot was the parking lot of the Tasty Pastry."

"This is where I go to think when I'm not in the mood to ingest three thousand calories worth of Boston Cremes."

Ranger sat down beside me on the bench and rested his elbows on his knees. We sat in companionable silence, staring out at the small lake before us. While Ranger's company was somewhat comforting, I was still unsure of what to say to him or how to initiate conversation after all that's happened between us. It seemed as though he was having the same thoughts, because he'd cleared his throat several times to speak but ended up stopping himself, ultimately remaining quiet.

Finally, I couldn't take the silence anymore and spoke. "My grandmother used to bring Valerie and I here when we were little," I began quietly. "To feed the ducks and play on the jungle gym. I remember wanting to jump off of the monkey bars when I was eight, to see if I could fly." I laughed lightly. "Grandma Mazur had made me come down, though. She told me I'd break my neck and become a cripple. Once, Mary Lou and I tried to bury Bucky Seidler in the sandbox, but that didn't work too well because he was so big. His feet kept poking through."

Ranger looked my way with a smile. "Always the adventurous one, babe."

"And when Mare and I were older, in high school, we used to bring guys over to the docks and park our cars there to make out. She always brought Lenny, and I sometimes brought Morelli."

We were silent for several more moments. "What's not right in your world, Steph?" Ranger asked me softly.

I sighed. "Everything."

"I saw you do something tonight that I never would have thought you would ever do."

I turned to him. "What's that, Ranger?"

"Run away."

My heart contracted painfully. "Run away?" I choked out sarcastically. "What was I supposed to do instead? Kiss him goodbye and tell him to have a good trip? Ask him to please be careful? Make him tell me that he'll come home to me?"

"Sometimes, when our heart takes over our thoughts, we do things that our minds wouldn't normally let us do."

"Is that what happened when you got Lauren Marie pregnant?" I countered. "And is that the reason you suspended me for shooting Munson and made Lester so angry that he ended up quitting? Because you were thinking with your own jealous heart and not your right mind?"

Ouch. That one must have struck a nerve, because Ranger hung his head and blew out a harsh breath through his nose. "No, babe. Lauren Marie got pregnant because neither of us were thinking clearly enough to use protection. And no matter what you want to believe, my heart was not in that one."

"This, from Mr. Prepared-For-Everything," I sneered. "I guess the ol' condom got overlooked that night."

Ranger let that one go. "I've already apologized numerous times, and I won't continue to. If you can't forgive me for that, then there's nothing I can do about it. I'm just going to have to deal with it. And yes, I was angry with Santos for crossing the line with you right under my nose and I was angry with you for going along with it."

"So because you don't want me, no one else should have a shot at trying, right?" Suddenly, I was angry again. "Why, Ranger? Was I not good enough for you? Was there something you saw in me that made you want to hold out on telling me how you really felt about me?"

"No," he simply stated. "It was because I wasn't good enough for_ you_, Steph. You have so much good in you that I was afraid I'd ruin that somehow. I know how fucked up my life is. Between my company, and my obligation to the Army, and the fact that I've never been able to carry on a normal relationship, my life wasn't ever really my own. How the hell could I manage not to mess yours up, too? I don't exactly know why I did what I did with Lauren Marie. Sure, she's young and beautiful, and attractive, and she found me intriguing. Dangerous. But that was as far as I wanted to let things get with her, just that one night. Christ. I have needs, too, Stephanie. With Lauren, I figured there were no strings attached. Tit for tat. I couldn't just...use you for a one-night stand like that. I care about you way too much."

"Really." I laughed humorlessly. "So that was your way of telling me, then?"

Ranger looked away. "Take it as you will, babe. I've told you the truth. You deserved more than what I could have given you."

I didn't want to admit to Ranger that I was more disappointed at how he'd handled his feelings for me than I was at him getting Lauren Marie pregnant, even though that was the real issue. When I'd ended things with Morelli, I was hoping that Ranger would see that I was breaking away from being in a serious, committed relationship and would recognize that I didn't want to rush into anything right away. I would have been fine with just dating for the time being. But when weeks had passed, and he still hadn't shown any interest in asking me out, I should have been smart enough to realize that it just wasn't going to happen with us. Over the months, I'd grown to accept that. And if he were to ever have a change of heart and proclaim his love and undying affection for me, I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was going to have to break his heart with the fact that I no longer felt the same way.

But angry or not, I had to understand that Ranger was going through a huge loss of his own. Lauren Marie had taken their newborn son across the country permanently because what she had with Ranger was nothing more than a fond memory of what I was sure was an amazing night for the two of them, and a child that she'd have to raise without him for the next eighteen years. That notion made me soften slightly and I found myself turning to him after awhile.

"I'm sorry about Lauren Marie," I said finally. "I can't imagine how you must be feeling."

He blew out a sigh. "It's hard, you know? I have to look at it like it was just never meant to work out. I'll miss my son, because he's mine and I helped make him, but I'm glad this happened before I became too attached."

"You'll always have an attachment to him," I pointed out. "Whether you want to or not. He's part of you, Ranger."

"I know."

We sat for a little while longer, until I just couldn't sit anymore. I ambled down to the edge of the lake and wrapped my arms around myself to try and keep the chilling breeze from seeping into my bones. Ranger came up behind me and put his arm around my shoulders before hugging me close.

"About you and Santos," he began quietly, before pressing a kiss to my temple.

I turned to face Ranger and stared up into his eyes. "This isn't a conspiracy against you, Ranger. We're not trying to break you, or torture you, or whatever else that's going through that head of yours. Like it or not, Lester makes me extremely happy. He gives me what I need, both physically and emotionally. He makes me feel like I'm the most amazing woman in the world, Ranger." I dropped my hands and stared up at the black starry sky, smiling. "He's smart, and funny, and creative. He's not serious and unpredictable. I can talk to him about anything. We can just look at each other and just...laugh." I looked back down at Ranger. "I need that in my life. I need _him_ in my life."

My chin trembled as the tears began to roll down. "I just don't know what I'm going to do without him. I have no fucking clue."

Ranger peered down at me intently. "Why, Steph?" he asked me softly. "Why is this so hard for you?"

I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I - I think I'm in love with him, Ranger," I whispered.

It was a few beats before Ranger finally nodded knowingly. I barged ahead. "I know that this is hard for you. But your friendship means so much to me. And to Lester. No matter how awful the things you both have said to each other were, I know that you're miserable without him and he's been miserable without you, too. I don't want this to ruin your friendship with him, Ranger."

"What about _our_ friendship?"

I reached up and pulled Ranger into a tight hug, feeling safe in his huge arms and knowing that nothing could ever separate us. Not now. "I forgive you for doing all that you've done, Ranger. And since Lester's the kind of wonderful man that he is, I know he forgives you, too. And if you can find it in your heart to accept Lester and I together, it would make me the happiest woman in the world."

Ranger hugged me to him and stroked the back of my head. "Steph, I'd do anything in the world for you. You know that. When you said that you thought Santos cared for you more than I do, I was heartbroken. Nothing could ever be more false. If I can't have you in my life as my partner, I'm more than willing and honored to have you as an employee. And one of my best friends. I'm so incredibly sorry for whatever grief I've caused you and Santos by letting my jealousy overtake the decisions I've made about your employment with my company." Ranger released me and held my face in his hands. "I realize that our ship has sailed, Stephanie. Our moment has passed. But I won't ever, _ever_ let you down as your friend."

"That means so much to me, Ranger," I blubbered. "Thank you."

Ranger held me for several more moments until I finally had to pull away. I sniffed back my teras and glanced at my watch. It was almost one in the morning.

"It's almost one," I sighed. "Lester's probably been trying to call. I left my phone in the car." Ranger held me as we walked back to the lot, over to Big Blue. He helped me into the driver's seat and slid in after me.

When we were shut inside, I turned to Ranger. "Do you think Lester feels the same way about me as I do about him?" I asked quietly.

Ranger let out a light chuckle. "Yeah, I think he does, babe. Tank told me to watch the way Santos looks at you, so I've been. And when he does, it's like you're the only woman his eyes can see. His face gets all bright and glowy."

I blushed. That was weird, coming from Ranger. "Really? You're certain he feels the same?"

Ranger nodded. "That's something you'll have to clarify with him, in due time, but I'd bet my life on it."

I fired up the Buick. "By the way, I probably won't be in tomorrow morning at 0900 hours."

"I don't want you to come in tomorrow. When you're ready, your position will be waiting for you. Take as much time as you need. This morning and the next couple of days won't be easy, but the guys and I are here for you if you need us."

I smiled. "Thank you, Ranger."

"My pleasure, babe."

* * *

It was after one when I dropped Ranger off at Haywood. He kissed me on the cheek and told me that he loved me. I knew he did, in his own way, of course. Not in the way I loved Lester, or the way I'd loved Joe. But in a way that let me know I was safe in his presence and that he truly cared for me. It was comforting and I knew that while things were improving in the World of Plum, I still had one major battle to overcome.

Lester's Escalade was in the driveway when I drove up to the red brick townhouse and cut the the engine. I'd gotten no missed calls from him while I was with Ranger at Franklin Park, and I was slightly apprehensive about popping in on him when the possibility that he might be mad at me was on the table. Ranger _had_ told him to give me some time, but I hoped Les didn't think I was avoiding him or unwilling to say a proper goodbye before he left for D.C.

My cell rang, startling me from my thoughts. I hit the speakerphone. "H - hello?" I stammered.

"Are you just gonna sit out there all night, beautiful, or are you gonna come inside?" came a husky male voice.

I felt my lips spreading in a wide grin. "I was thinking about doing that," I replied. "Just wanted to make sure I was welcome."

"Get out of that damn car and get your ass into this house, Plum." The hint of a joking smile in his voice let me know he wasn't seriously talking to me that way, and as soon as he disconnected I grabbed my keys and shoulder bag before climbing out of the car.

Santos met me at the front door and folded me into a huge hug. A few moments later, he dropped his arms and brought my face up to his with his hands before lowering his lips to mine and kissing me softly. "I'm so sorry, Steph," he whispered against my lips. "I never meant for this to happen."

"I know you didn't," I replied. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I took off, because I didn't know how to handle this. This is totally new to me. Us, you leaving, the Army...it's all so new."

"Shhh," Les soothed, pulling me into him again. "It'll all be okay, gorgeous. I want you to understand that no matter how many times I've been to war, and no matter how many times my life has been in danger, nothing is harder than saying goodbye to the people who are most important to me."

I nodded as Lester rubbed small circles on my back. "I know. I couldn't imagine what that's like."

"Come on. You look like you could use a hot shower and a nice warm bed." Lester led me by the hand down the hall and into his bedroom, where my overnight bag was stashed in the corner, containing everything I'd need for a night at his place.

"Where'd you get all that stuff?" I asked him, rummaging through the bag. "Did you go to my apartment? How did you get in?"

"Ranger's not the only one with good lock-picking skills, beautiful." Lester waggled his eyebrows at me and grinned. "Your shower stuff is already in the bathroom. And I hope you don't mind, but I lit some candles in there for you. So you can take a bath."

My heart soared. Lester Santos was, hands-down, the sweetest man on the face of the earth, and I had the privilege of sharing the night with him before he went off to war. "Not too long of one, though," I said. "What time do you need to leave here?"

"0700 hours."

"I'll be quick."

The hot bathwater felt heavenly on my chilled skin as it soaked into me, the bubbles foaming up around my legs and arms as I sat. Lester's Roman tub was big enough for two, but I'd seen that he'd already showered when I met him in the foyer earlier. The candlelight flickers danced cheerily in the shadows of the bathroom, casting a dim, romantic glow. My curls were piled high on my head and out of harm's way, so I took the liberty of shaving with the razor he'd put in there for me and soaping up my skin with this luxurious creamy soap that my sister had given me for my birthday. It smelled like lavender and vanilla, and just the scent of it alone relaxed me and put my whirling thoughts at ease.

Twenty minutes into my soak, I decided it was time to pull the plug and get dried off. Lester had a stack of fluffy white bath towels sitting on the toilet lid, so I chose one and began patting myself down. I let my dry curls out of their clip and shook my hair to fluff it up before tucking the edge of the towel under my arm and folding up the bathmat.

I was standing in front of the mirror near the marble-tiled shower when the bathroom door clicked open and Lester poked his head in. He was smiling his drop-dead-gorgeous lopsided grin and I wondered what he had up his sleeve.

"All done with your bath, beautiful?"

I moaned, completely satisfied. "It was heaven."

"Mind if I come in?" Lester raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not."

The door opened all the way and Lester stepped through, wearing nothing but a pair of red Chicago Bulls basketball shorts. The crimson of his shorts blended with the caramel of his skin and the orange glow of the candles, making his outstanding body appear even more god-like. Christ. If I was ever a lucky woman, it was now.

"You smell good," Lester stated, shutting himself into the bathroom with me. I noticed that one of his hands was behind his butt, and I wondered what he had back there. "I bet you taste even better." Lester approached me and bent his head down to place a hot, open-mouthed kiss against my pulse point, scrambling my brain cells. When he was done, he smacked his lips together. "Yep. Sure do."

"Wh - what's behind your back?" I stammered, my mind cloudy from the feel of his lips on my overheated skin.

"You'll see." Lester led me by the hand over to the shower and ran his face down the curve of my neck. When he spoke again, his voice was deep and rough. "A long time ago, Ranger told Tank and Bobby and I the story of how he was forced to rescue you from one of Joe Morelli's idiot tricks. Apparently, you'd gotten chained naked to your shower rod and had no one else to call but the boss himself to try and get you free." Lester's warm lips began to trail from my neck to my ear, making me forget momentarily how to breathe, but still causing me to wonder where he was going with this.

I soon found out.

"Ever since the day I first met you during the Sloane takedown, I've been picturing you handcuffed, naked with your arms above your head, to the curtain rod. And now that I actually can, I'm going to see it for myself with my own eyes."

Holy fucking shit.

"Lester..." I whimpered, trailing off, feeling my core contract with desire.

"Put your arms above your head, beautiful." Lester's voice was now a harsh rasp and tight with sexual need. He brought his hidden hand around to his front and sure enough, in it was a set of sparkling metal cuffs. The click of the metal in the deafening silence of the bathroom turned me on to no end as I obeyed his command, wrapping both of my hands around the curtain rod that was arms-length above me. My eyelids fluttered shut as the coolness of the cuffs soaked into my wrists, and Lester rasped them closed around the shower rod.

He slowly untucked my towel and let it slide to the floor, baring my naked curves to his smoldering gaze. "Christ," he muttered. "Nothing could have prepared me for how fucking incredible you look right now, standing like that."

Lester ran his hands down my sides, leaving goose bumps in their wake. His breath hitched as my legs spread apart instinctively, my throbbing clit aching to be touched and my nipples standing at attention to finally receive some. He must have sensed my sexual frustration because he lowered his mouth to my right breast and gently took the aching pink bud in between his perfect white teeth.

My sighs and moans of appreciation for his actions echoed off the tiled shower and bounced back into my ears. Lester switched to the other side, drawing the nipple into his mouth and flattening his tongue against it. Need was building up in my lower stomach, threatening to spill over. The familiar swirling feelings of tension were becoming unbearable as he continued to lave my nipple with his talented tongue. I tried to move my hands to hold his face to my breast as I came, but they were locked up, creating frustration that ended up turning me one more than I cared to admit. I cried out, unable to control myself as my core spasmed, and I screamed his name at the ceiling of the shower.

"Tell me how good that felt," Les mumbled against my lips as he continued to stimulate my hypersensitive nipples with his thumbs.

"I - I can't," I stammered breathlessly.

"Yeah, you can. Deep breaths, gorgeous." He reached one hand down to part me with his fingers and he groaned into my mouth when he felt the flood of wetness. "Christ, Stephanie."

Slowly, one of Lester's fingers slid its way through my folds and circled the opening of my tight core, torturing me while he put his lips to my ear. His kisses moved southward as his digit continued to make a mess of my wet folds, and I felt myself gush from being so incredibly turned on. When his lips reached my nipple, he withdrew his finger from me and continued kissing his way down my body until he was kneeling at my wetness.

One touch from his hot tongue sent me skyrocketing into an orgasm so intense it left me hoarse from screaming and blinded by white flashes. He set me off spiraling out of control as I writhed against the shower curtain rod, unable to develop any coherent notions except for the wonderful feelings his amazing mouth was creating. When it was over, what seemed like hours later, Lester kissed me just below my belly button and finally stood up on shaky legs.

"Christ, Stephanie, you have me so fucking insane for you," Lester gasped against my neck as he flattened his body up against mine. His huge hand reached around to palm one of my cheeks, the other buried in my curls. "I want you in every way possible."

"Lester," I whispered against his cheek. "Take me to bed and make love to me."

At that, Lester was reduced to speaking in his native tongue. "_Dios,_ estoy tan enamorado de esta mujer. Lo que hace a mí."

I have no idea what he said, but it was music to my ears. He reached behind him and snatched the handcuff key off of the vanity before frantically unlocking the cuffs and releasing my arms. They immediately wrapped around his neck as I held him to me, my tongue dueling with his as hands crushed my bare waist.

We made it to the bed. Lester laid me down on the butter-soft sheets and held my gaze as I helped him push his basketball shorts over his hips, freeing his hard length. He was huge, yet fit into me perfectly. And when he slid home, I felt my body contract around him to hold him tight as he moved within me, our bodies voicing the love that our mouths hadn't yet spoken.

My heart was swollen with emotions. I loved him with every ounce of me, despite not knowing if he truly reciprocated the feelings. But I loved him, anyway. With my body, my heart, my being. He was my best friend, my soul mate. The one person who truly made me feel appreciated to no end. There wasn't a jealous bone in his body, or a spiteful crinkle within the folds of his ventricles. He makes me laugh, but he rarely makes me cry. He makes me smile, but has never made me frown. He truly loved life to the fullest, even when the darkest of days made it so hard.

And he was mine. _Mine._

When I'd let go and begun soaring above the clouds, he followed me over the edge with tears in his eyes.

"I love you, Stephanie," Lester choked out, his face buried in my curls as he buried himself into my body as deep as he could go. "I love you so fucking much."

My eyes welled over and my spirit lifted. _Yes,_ my heart was praising. _He loves me._ "I love you, too," I whispered.

And we slept, entangled in each other, until the alarm rang.

* * *

They say that whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

Waking up in Lester's protective arms later on that morning was bliss, but the realization of the fact that he'd be leaving on a jet three hours later for D.C. made my happiness fade and a sick feeling resumed its place deep in my gut. As much as I yearned to hit the snooze button and pull him back against me, I knew he couldn't keep Uncle Sam waiting.

"I hate waking up in your arms knowing I won't be able to again for God knows how long," Lester mumbled, his voice all raspy from sleep. He kissed me gently and tucked my head under his chin.

"I thought the hardest part would be saying good-bye to you at the airport," I said softly. "But I was wrong. This is." I choked back a small sob and felt Lester's arms grip me tighter. We fell silent then, relishing in the last moments we had naked in each other's embrace.

At six-thirty, Lester stepped out of the shower and scrubbed his toussled spikes dry with a towel. He wordlessly approached me on the bed and dropped his mouth to mine for a tender kiss that both swelled my heart with love and simultaneously shattered it into pieces. I knew I'd miss him, and I knew he'd miss me, but _nothing_ could have prepared me for how incredibly hard this was.

I watched as he stretched a plain black tee shirt over his head and yanked on black BDUs. He completed the look with black Army-issue combat boots and disappeared into his walk-in closet only to emerge with an olive-drab duffel bag and a small black plastic suitcase. Lester began to fill the duffel bag with the contents of his bottom bureau drawer, including several pairs of black BDUs and black tee shirts. He went back into his closet and carried out a few camouflage uniforms with his last name and Delta Force rank insignia stitched onto the front and sleeves.

"I've never seen you in your fatigues," I said lightly from my perch on the bed. "How come you're not going to D.C. in them?"

Lester's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "Delta Force, beautiful, doesn't advertise."

"More of a safety thing, then?"

"Yeah." Lester carefully rolled the fatigues into more manageable items and tucked them into his duffel bag. He hung dog tags from his neck and tucked them underneath his shirt, snug against his rock-hard, entirely-edible chest.

Lucky fucking dog tags.

"Want some breakfast on our way to the airport?"

I nodded. "Sure."

When I was dressed and ready to go, Lester carted his gear out to the Escalade and I waited while he locked up his house. "If you want, you can stay here while I'm gone. Just don't forget that it's my man-cave and decorate it all girly." He smiled his deadly grin and winked at me.

I couldn't really muster up the effort to smile much. "Thanks," I replied. "I might take you up on that offer sometime."

Lester pulled me against him and looked deeply into my eyes. "I'm serious, beautiful. I don't want you to be in your apartment, miserable and going stir-crazy. Get out sometimes. Go places with the girls. Keep the guys in line. Repair your friendship with Ranger."

"I'll probably do all of those things," I told him. "It'll take time, though."

Les kissed me. "I know," he replied when he'd pulled away. He helped me into the passenger's side and climbed up into the driver's seat. He started the SUV and backed out of the driveway, and before pulling off down the street, he stopped for a moment and stared over at his house. "I'm gonna miss this place."

"Don't do this," I said, my voice cracking. "You'll be home before you know it."

The drive to Newark took a little over an hour, due to rush-hour morning traffic. We'd gotten Burger King for breakfast, with Lester saying he wanted one last real American fast-food meal before he had to start eating MREs and other strange rations. Lester pulled into the American Airlines terminal and made me stay in the truck while he unloaded his gear. He wasn't checking any bags, because his duffel and small black suitcase were considered carry-on, so as soon as they were sitting on the sidewalk he asked me to get out and wait while he parked the Escalade in short-term parking.

I felt awkward standing next to an Army-issue bag, and people were glancing at me as though _I _was the one deploying. Between my red eyes and puffy nose, I was certain that the sympathetic looks from both men and women alike were because they knew either me or someone I loved was about to go to war. It sucked, and I wasn't prepared for the attention.

"He'll be back before you know it, honey," one woman said to me as she passed by with her kid. "Just count the days."

"Thanks," I muttered, taking a step back from Lester's duffel bag as though it was a venomous reptile.

When Lester returned to the terminal, he handed me his Escalade keys. He scooped up his bags and I noticed that he had his dog tags untucked, the glinting silver in plain view against his tight black tee shirt. He picked up the small black suitcase and I realized I had no idea what he had in there.

"My gun," he whispered in my ear, seemingly reading my mind. "Never leave home without it."

I stifled a laugh because he sounded like an American Express commercial. "Doesn't the Army give you firearms?"

"Yeah. They gave me this one." Lester brandished his small black suitcase. "It's a sniper rifle."

We headed to the security checkpoint, where Lester held up a small clear wallet containing several ID cards. Both he and I were scanned with wands and practically patted down, but we made it through the checkpoint without any body cavity searches needing to be done. I was surprised that the transportation security administration had let me through the gate, but when you're with a U.S. soldier, there's not much they can say no to.

"I'm leaving from Gate 7, beautiful," Lester spoke up when we'd reached the bay of terminals. "Flight 1447 to D.C." He pointed to a small waiting area and a ticket counter straight ahead. "That's me."

"Is it boarding yet?" I asked, praying to God that the plane was delayed somewhere. Like Antarctica, maybe.

Lester looked at his watch and hiked his duffel bag up onto his shoulder. "In ten minutes. Let's check in at the counter."

We approached a middle-aged man in a suit who was standing behind the ticket counter. "May I help you?" he asked politely.

"I was emailed my flight information early this morning via my BlackBerry," Lester explained to the man. "I should have a ticket here waiting for me."

"Your name, young man?"

"Lester Santos."

"And the name of your company?"

Lester raised an eyebrow, as if he thought the man should automatically know what he was all about. "The United States Army."

The man's face lit up. "Ah, yes." He stared at his computer screen and tapped away at the keyboard. "I've got your reservation right here, sir. Let me print out your boarding pass." A few moments later, Lester had his boarding pass and a couple of pieces of paper containing flight information.

"Thank you," Lester said to the man as we prepared to walk away.

"No. Thank you," the man replied with a smile. "Thank you for serving our country."

"My pleasure, sir."

I was so proud at that moment. Of Lester, of his fierce bravery at what he was about to go through, of our country. I was proud of it all. And the fact that the man I loved...shit. The man I loved. It sounded wonderful to be able to call him that. The man I loved was honorable and noble, respectable yet dignified. He was an officer, I knew, but I wasn't sure what his rank was so I asked him.

"Captain," he replied. "Weird, I know. To think that I'm a captain of something." Les grinned at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"No, I think it sounds extremely important," I said. "Very un-Santos-like."

"And what's Santos-like?"

I rolled my eyes. "You grabbing my ass and telling me you wish I could pose as a flight attendant on your plane so that you could screw my brains out in the tiny bathroom."

"The mile-high club," Lester exclaimed. "I love it."

_"Flight 1447 with service from Newark to Washington D.C., now boarding first class passengers."_

This was it. Lester's row would be called to board next. He pulled me into a hug and I heard him blow out a shaky sigh. With his arms wrapped tightly around me, he pressed a kiss onto the top of my head.

"I can't believe this is happening," I choked out. Fat tears began to roll down my cheeks as my chin trembled.

"Me neither," Lester whispered. His eyes were red and watery, but he knew he needed to keep it together or else risk forever tarnishing his image as a bad-ass soldier. "I've been dreading this moment since I got that phone call last night."

Lester didn't need to be wearing fatigues for folks to know he was Army. And no one needed to be a rocket scientist to figure out that he was being deployed overseas. If I thought I was getting a shitload of sympathetic smiles and glances of empathy earlier out on the terminal, nothing compared to having a horde of people walk up to us and request to shake Lester's hand.

"Good luck over there, young man," an elderly man said, gripping Lester's palm. "Get home safe."

"Stay strong and brave," a lady added, wanting to be next in line for a handshake.

Lester was gracious and polite throughout the ordeal. He smiled and shook hands, and thanked people when necessary. When he was finally alone with me, he pulled me aside and brought my face to his for a gentle kiss. "Keep the guys company," he said. "And tell them not to worry about me."

"They're going to," I sobbed, smiling through my tears.

_He called her on the road, from a lonely cold hotel room, just to hear her say I love you one more time..._

"Make sure you take good care of Rex, and don't be a bad hamster-mommy because you miss me too much."

I choked out a laugh-sob. "I won't."

_And when he heard the sound of the kids laughing in the background, he had to wipe away a tear from his eye..._

Lester grew serious. "I'm not sure when I'll be able to call you, but if anything happens to me over there the Army will get in touch with you."

"I don't even want to _think_ about that," I said angrily.

_A little voice came on the phone, and said Daddy when you coming home? He said the first thing that came to his mind..._

He leaned down and kissed me again, this time a little deeper. I became lost in our passion as his tongue swept into my mouth, and I knew at that moment that he'd come home to me. I had no idea in what condition, but I knew in my heart of hearts that this man would be mine forever.

"I love you, beautiful."

_I'm already there. Take a look around. I'm the sunshine in your hair, I'm the shadow on the ground._  
_I'm the whisper in the wind, I'm your imaginary friend._  
_And you know, I'm in your prayers, oh I'm already there._

"When I wake up tomorrow morning, I won't have you," I whispered, overcome with heartache and the tears falling faster.

"You will, gorgeous," Lester insisted, his voice cracking. "I'll be right here." He gently poked my chest, directly over my heart.

_He got back on the phone, and said I really miss you darling. Don't worry about the kids, they'll be allright..._  
_Wish I was in your arms, lying right there beside you. But I know that I'll be in your dreams tonight._

"I want you to promise me that you'll come back to me, Lester," I whimpered.

Lester raised my hand to his lips and kissed it several times before holding it to his heart. "I will. You know I will."

"You're my best friend and I love you more than anything."

_And I'll gently kiss your lips, touch you with my fingertips. So turn out the light and close your eyes._  
_I'm already there. Don't make a sound. I'm the beat in your heart; I'm the moonlight shining down._  
_I'm the whisper in the wind, and I'll be there until the end._  
_Can you feel the love that we share? Oh, I'm already there._

"I want to make sure you'll be safe while I'm gone," Lester insisted fervently. "Listen to the guys and Ranger. Do what they tell you, because they know what's best for your safety."

"I know," I replied, sniffling. "I'll be safe."

_We may be a thousand miles apart, but I'll be with you wherever you are..._

"I have to go now, beautiful. I love you so much. I'll see you soon."

"I love you, Lester," I managed to reply, feeling my face crumple with fresh sobs.

He kissed me one last time and ran his fingertips down my cheek. "I'll come back home to you, Stephanie. That's a promise."

And with a final small wave and a tight smile, he was gone.

_I'm already there. Take a look around. I'm the sunshine in your hair, I'm the shadow on the ground._  
_I'm the whisper in the wind, and I'll be there 'til the end. _  
_Can you feel the love that we share, oh, I'm already there._

**_Song: I'm Already There by Lonestar_**

**_Lester's Spanish: "__Dios,_ estoy tan enamorado de esta mujer. Lo que hace a mí." God, I'm so in love with this woman. What she does to me.**

**_

* * *

_**

**This chapter of Step Up is dedicated to the thousands of U.S. military families around the world who have shared in the pain of having to send their loved ones and spouses off to war. I wish our troops a safe deployment and an even safer return.  
God Bless America!**

**To my grandmothers, Betty and Rosemary, both dedicated Army wives and two of the strongest women I have ever met.  
To my Aunt Linda, who has been like my second mother, an Air Force wife and an inspiration to me.  
To my cousin Nicole, A USAF staff sargeant and also an Air Force wife, may your love and guidance continue to fill me.  
To Kristina, an Air Force wife and a blessing to have as a friend, and to Jessica, a Navy wife who's beautiful journey with her husband continues to amaze me.  
****To my mother, a Marine Corps wife, and the person responsible for helping all of my dreams to come true.  
And to the rest of the military wives out there, although I truly cannot share in your sadness of sending your husbands overseas, I can thank you from the bottom of my heart for being their light when nothing but darkness encompasses their vision.  
Your love and support brings them home safe!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi all!**

**First and foremost, I'd like to thank those of you who have sent PMs prodding me to continue this story...it worked! This was a difficult chapter to write and I'm hoping it will give you all insight to what Lester's going through while apart from Steph and the guys. I appreciate all of your reviews and comments, they truly motivate me to want to write more. **

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**Lester's POV**

Hollow. I felt hollow inside. Like I'd left behind something so vital, something of so much importance to me, like my wallet or one of my organs. I had my wallet, and I had all of my organs for the most part. I didn't have an appendix, or wisdom teeth, but apparently neither are really all that important, anyway.

Stephanie. I didn't have Stephanie.

Christ, I missed her more than I ever thought I could miss someone. Especially a woman, because until her, no female has ever been able to truly capture my heart. I loved her, and I loved _all _of her. I'd only been gone...I glanced at my watch...seven and a half minutes, but God help me, I missed the hell out of her so much that it hurt.

I knew for certain that she was still at my plane's gate, waiting for me to take off. The tears in those sad blue eyes of hers as I walked away just minutes earlier will forever haunt me, and listening to her tearful voice make me promise to come home to her was pure torture. But her words of support and affection made my heart fly a hundred feet off the ground. Stephanie was beautiful, inside and out, and she loved me back. And it was the most amazing feeling that I have ever felt in my_ life_.

The pilot announced our estimated time of takeoff as being five minutes from now, so I strained my eyes to try and get a glimpse of Stephanie through the glass windows of the gate terminal, but only succeeded in giving myself a slight headache. The sun bounced off of the windows, making the plane's reflection the only thing visible. She was in there watching, I knew, and the urge to launch out of my plane seat and run back into the airport and into her arms was overwhelming. I held my cool and reminded myself that if I were to do that, I'd miss my plane and the possibility of never seeing her again except from behind bullet-proof glass in prison kept me buckled into my seat. I'd be considered AWOL, and the Army doesn't like AWOL.

I pulled my cell out of my pocket, intent on calling Steph one last time before my plane went airborne and lost cell phone reception. Unsurprisingly, I had no bars, and I wasn't sure if hearing her voice at that moment would be the best thing. While I desperately wanted to tell her I loved her one last time before I took off, I knew I needed to stay focused for the tough times I was certain were ahead of me. I reluctantly pushed my phone back into my pocket and bit my lip, unsure if the decision to not call her was necessarily the right one.

For lack of anything better to do, I retrieved my iPod from my duffel bag in the overhead compartment and sat back down. I powered it up and slid on headphones, but as soon as my head was back against the headrest and my eyes were shut, I felt tapping on my left forearm.

I opened my eyes and focused on an elderly man standing over me in the aisle. He motioned for me to turn off my music so I reluctantly paused the song and let the headphones slip down around my neck.

"Young man, I believe you're in my seat."

"Not possible," I replied, digging my plane ticket out of a pocket in my BDUs. I held it up to him and pointed to my row and seat number. "See? It says right here. Lester Santos, row two, seat ten."

The man frowned. "That's seat ten, hunh." He peered at his own ticket through thick spectacles. "Those nincompoops accidentally gave us the same seat." He showed me, on his ticket, where American Airlines had given him row two, seat ten.

"Ain't that a bitch," I muttered. I glanced at the empty seat next to me, then looked around the plane. It was nearly full, and the flight attendants were preparing to shut the entrance door so I knew no one else would be trying to get on. "I guess no one's going to sit here." I patted the seat back next to me. "Make yourself at home."

"Ding-dang scheduling computers nowadays," the man grumbled. "Ain't worth a dime." He stowed a small black leather bag in the overhead compartment above us and squeezed past my legs before attempting to make a dignified descent into the empty window seat. When he'd plopped down and had yanked the seatbelt around his bony hips, he sat back in the chair and gave me a full-on grin. "This works for me, son."

I smiled back. He was all right. "Headed to D.C., hunh?" I asked him.

"Charlotte," he replied, sighing. "I'm just changing planes in Washington."

"Who's in Charlotte?"

"My granddaughter. Just had a baby a day and a half ago. Little girl. They named her Catherine."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you." The man peered over at me. "So. Lester Santos. Headed to D.C."

"Yes, sir," I replied, nodding once.

Suddenly the plane's engines whirred to life and screamed as we taxied backwards and away from the gate. The flight attendants headed down our row, demonstrating things and showing off folders full of detailed color photos featuring crash-landing instructions. Not something I wanted to think about at that moment, but I found myself paying attention, anyway. The plane turned then, and the window next to the old man was now facing the gate terminal's glass. I desperately wished, with every fiber of my being, that I could catch one last glimpse of Stephanie's gorgeous face before I took off, but the only thing I saw was the reflection of the 757 taxiing by.

I leaned forward in my seat and looked past my elderly seat-mate, out the tiny window. "Bye, beautiful," I whispered, feeling myself become choked up. "I'll see you soon." I continued to look out the window and felt a piece of my heart get left behind, out on the tarmac. If it was this difficult for me to leave her, I couldn't imagine how she must be feeling as she watched my plane taxi away. It was something I couldn't bear to think about then.

My cell vibrated in my pocket, startling me because I didn't think I had reception. Tank's name and number popped up onto the screen as I pulled it out. Sure enough, two bars were visible in the top left corner, most likely because the plane was now moving.

"Yo," I gruffed out, as soon as the connection was made.

"We're at the terminal with Steph," came his booming voice. "We got here a few minutes after they stopped letting passengers onto your plane."

I felt my eyes widen in surprise. "You guys are at the airport? At the gate?"

"I know you told us not to come, Santos, but we wanted to be here for Steph. I'm really glad I decided not to listen to you on this." I sensed Tank grinning on the other end of the airwaves. "She's understandably upset, but she's holding it together just fine."

I felt immense relief that the guys were there with Steph. "We're lining up to take off," I said as the plane bumped and shuddered on its way to the flight strip. "Let me talk to her."

"I'll put her on. Be safe over there, man. I love you. Bobby loves you. All the rest of the guys love you. Hell, even Ranger loves you. Just do the job you've been trained to do. Keep in mind that it'll be over before you know it, if you don't dwell on the things that you have no control over. Use your best judgement. Always keep an eye open for hazards, and - shit, hang on. Steph's giving me a death glare. She wants to talk to you before your plane takes off." I heard muffled talking and static, but a few seconds later, I heard the most wonderful sound as Stephanie got on the phone.

"Lester," Steph breathed. "Jesus, I miss you so much already. I wanted to call you as soon as you got on the plane, but my freaking cell phone is in a cup holder in your Escalade and I couldn't find a damn payphone that was nearby because I didn't want to leave the window, and I forgot the last two digits of your cell number so I couldn't use the phone at the ticket counter, and then the guys showed up, and Bobby's a mess so Tank called you instead..."

Tears sprang to my eyes and I gulped back a sob. "I miss you, too, beautiful," I choked out. "Calm down. I love you. It's okay that you couldn't call me. I would have called you as soon as I was settled in D.C., anyway. And I'm still going to."

"God, I love you so much," Steph replied on a small sigh. "_Please_ be safe over there. Listen to everything that Tank told you, even though he took too long saying it." I heard Tank grunt in the background and I imagined Steph giving him the hairy eyeball. "Call me the second you get settled in D.C."

"You know I will. Let the guys take care of you. I'm glad you don't have to drive my Escalade back to Trenton by yourself."

"Me, too," she admitted. "I don't know how I would have managed that."

The plane's takeoff engines fired up and the noise was almost deafening. "I have to go now," I exclaimed, my heart shattering. "Stay strong for me, beautiful. I'll be home before you know it."

"I will," she shouted over the noise. "Ranger's here and he sends his best. Bobby says to kick some Iraqi ass. And you already heard Tank's lecture."

"I'll talk to you in a couple hours," I yelled to her. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Lester," she hollered back, near tears. The plane's engines cut off briefly and then screamed back on, and I physically had to force myself to disconnect the call. I jammed my phone back into my pocket and leaned back hard in my seat. This truly sucked. As relieved as I was that the guys were there for Steph, it bothered me that I was going to be the cause of her discomfort for the next umpteen weeks. I had no idea how long this mission was going to be, and if I allowed myself to think it would be shorter than a month, I was fucking kidding myself.

The plane shot forward at an alarming speed and caught air less than a minute later. Houston, we have lift-off. I was on my way to a place where not much else was known besides kill or be killed. The rest of the guys on my old unit would no doubt be happy to see me again, and I was certain they weren't faring much better because we'd all been called for this on a moment's notice. That's the shitty thing about the Army. Many times, things happen on a moment's notice whether you're prepared for them or not.

"She'll be just fine," a voice spoke up from my right. I looked over and saw the old man grinning at me. "Call her every chance you get."

"I can't," I choked out.

"Well, sure you can," the man replied. "They've got phones in the desert, believe it or not."

I smiled sadly. "I wish I could explain it to you, but I really can't. Unless you're Army, you'd never figure it out."

The man squinted at me through his thick glasses. "I don't believe I've had the chance to properly introduce myself." He held out his bony, wrinkled hand to me and I shook it slowly. "Major General Richard Balaski, United States Army. Retired. Served in Germany during the Second World War, until my office was bombed and I ended up losing a leg." He hiked up the left pant leg of his Dockers and knocked on a prosthetic shin and ankle. He let his pant leg back down and chuckled happily.

I was shocked. "A two-star general," I said, my voice thick with awe. "It's an honor, sir. And sorry about your leg, by the way."

"It's been gone for nearly fifty-five years," General Balaski replied. "I haven't really missed it. But thank you. Same honors here. I saw your rucksack in the overhead compartment earlier. Iraq?"

I sighed. "Like I said, I wish I could say, but I'm not able to. I'm in Delta Force."

General Balaski nodded knowingly and chuckled again. "They didn't have Delta Force when I served. It's some new fangled thing the Army dreamed up in the seventies to counteract terrorism. A secret society of a sort. Don't ask, don't tell. Am I right?"

"I guess that's the point," I replied. "It's like you said. A secret society. You know how it goes, General. Intelligence finds out information about the enemy and sends the best of the best to do a sneak attack. That's pretty much the gist of it. My unit won't get its exact location orders until we land in the desert."

General Balaski blew out a sigh. "Hell, that's got to be rough," he commented. "Not knowing exactly where you're flying to until you land. And those ding-dang Air Force planes don't have any cotton-pickin' windows to see out of. They could be flying you to the North Pole, for all you know."

I had to laugh. "I don't know if I'd rather melt in an Afghan desert or freeze to death on a tundra."

"If it were me, I'd rather be in the Caribbean, being served drinks by the beach."

I immediately thought of Stephanie handing me an ice-cold Corona in the mother of all skimpy bikinis while we sunbathed on a beach in Jamaica.

"I hear you," I groaned.

* * *

The flight droned on. General Balaski nodded off somewhere over Philadelphia. I put my headphones back on and tried to calm down as I leaned back in my seat, but I kept thinking about what Stephanie might be doing. I pictured her riding back to Trenton with the guys, them telling her about what Army life is like and about what I'm probably going to go through while I'm over there. I then wondered if she was going to stay in my townhouse when she got back to Trenton. If she did, I'd be relieved. I wanted her to feel safe there, and at home. I thought about what she was going to be doing when I called her after landing in D.C. Feeding Rex, maybe? Visiting with Lula or the guys? Watching _Ghostbusters_ in her pajamas, alternating between stuffing her face with Cherry Garcia and crying into Kleenexes? I wasn't sure.

I closed my eyes and tried to relax again. I must have fallen asleep, because I was startled awake by the pilot announcing our impending arrival at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport.

"This is us," I said to General Balaski, who had stirred awake when he felt me moving around beside him.

"Christ," he mumbled, groggy from sleep. "You know you're getting old when you fall asleep on an hour and a half flight."

We were directed off the plane when it landed and General Balaski and I had to say our goodbyes when we entered the gate at the airport. We turned to each other and stiffened into perfect salute form before he muttered, "At ease, Captain. My arthritis is acting up."

I laughed and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's been a pleasure, General. And an honor."

"Likewise," he replied, switching his black leather bag from his right hand to his left. "Good luck over there. Come home safe, young man."

"I will, sir," I told him. "Enjoy your new great granddaughter."

"I imagine she's even more beautiful in person than in the pictures my granddaughter emailed me," General Balaski said thoughtfully. He turned back to me. "Well, I've got another flight to catch. But I'd just like to say that if you were my grandson, I'd be goddamned proud of you, boy."

My lips curled up into a confident smile as General Balaski gave my hand a firm shake. "I won't let you or our country down, sir," I reassured him.

"Hooah." With one last smile, General Balaski put his hand up in a wave and teetered away.

* * *

A large black SUV with limo-tinted windows was waiting for me when I exited the airport and into the outdoor breeze. I quickly strode up to it and pulled open the back door. I tossed my rucksack and gun case inside and slid into the leather seat before slamming the door shut behind me. The SUV peeled out of the terminal and I turned around to see who was sitting in the third seat behind me. When recognition kicked in, a huge grin spread across my face.

"Chris Howell, you fucking animal," I exclaimed, twisting in my seat to do the guy handshake with one of my best friends in the Force. "I knew you'd be here."

"Santos," he replied happily, slapping my palm. "Good to see you, man. I was stoked when I saw you walk out of that airport."

"Long flight?" I asked him, knowing he'd come from Denver.

Howell groaned. "Long as hell."

The SUV cruised through town while Howell and I caught up with each other's lives. I wanted to call Stephanie as soon as we arrived at our destination, because I knew I'd be crazy busy for the rest of the day until our plane took off for points unknown. Pre-deployment evaluations and physicals were known to take hours, and I wasn't sure if I'd have another chance to talk to her before I left with my unit. Howell nudged me when we stopped at a red light and held his cell phone up to my face.

"Savannah," he said, grinning. "She's two now."

I peered at the picture of a smiling red-headed little girl. "She's beautiful," I told him. "How old was she when you saw her for the first time?"

"Three months," Howell sighed. "Marina's pregnant again. She's due in sixteen weeks."

"Let's hope you'll be there to see this one come into the world," I said, smiling wryly. "Boy or girl?"

Howell grinned again. "I've finally got my son."

"Congratulations, man." I whipped out my cell and pulled up a picture of Stephanie. I held up my phone so Howell could see her. "You remember Stephanie, don't you?"

"Of course," Howell said, checking out the picture. "You talked about her non-stop two years ago while we were on that mission in Kandahar. You guys finally seeing each other now?"

"Yeah." I grinned. "I've been in love with her for a long time."

"She's gorgeous," Howell said, then whistled. "Damn, Santos. You're a lucky man. Whatever you do, don't let her go."

I scoffed as I shoved my phone back into my pocket. "Believe me, I won't."

After a quick stop at the Pentagon to check in with our unit leaders, the SUV carted Howell and I to our pre-deployment activities. Walter Reed Army Medical Center loomed ahead of us on the left. As much as I hated pre-deployment testing, I knew it was a required part of the job. Howell and I, along with the rest of our five-man sniper team, would be subjected to countless pokes and prods, blood draws, and anything else under the fucking sun that the Army found it fit to test us for.

The Deployment Health Clinical Center was attached to the hospital, so when the driver of our SUV stopped at an overhang near the front entrance, it was our cue to get out. Howell and I grabbed our bags and flashed our military IDs to the armed soldier out front before I whipped out my cell and dialed Stephanie.

"Ohmigod, Lester," she exclaimed when I managed to get her on the line. "How are you? How was your flight?"

I smiled and leaned against a pole, my arms aching to be wrapped around her. It felt so fucking good to hear her voice. "I'm good, beautiful," I replied. "Just a little tired. I have no idea when the next time I'll be able to sleep will be."

"God, I miss you," Steph breathed.

"Baby, not as much as I miss you." I paused. "Are you back at your apartment?" I was praying she'd say no, and that she'd decided to stay at my townhouse and make herself at home because someday I _want_ it to be her home, if she'd be okay with that and all -

"I'm at your place," she replied.

My heart soared with relief. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I heard the smile in her voice. "I don't miss you so badly when I'm here. All your stuff's here. I know you're coming home soon."

Howell nudged me and I saw the rest of the guys from our unit arriving by SUV out of the corner of my eye. "I'm doing okay for now," I told Steph. "I'm getting my pre-deployment health assessment in a few minutes, so I have to go. But I promise I'll call you as soon as I'm able to. Don't let your phone out of your sight from now on. Got it?"

"Okay," she agreed. A few moments went by before, "I'm proud of you, Les."

"Thank you, gorgeous," I said, feeling my throat tighten. "Soon. I'll be home soon."

"I know," Steph whispered. "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby."

I wanted to run back to Trenton as fast as my legs could carry me, but I knew that would be wrong. I had an obligation to my country. As much as I wanted to crawl into bed with Stephanie and never come out, I actually found myself wanting to do my part and fulfill my tour of duty. The Army needs me, I thought, and I'll do my best to help.

For the next four hours or so, the guys and I were poked and prodded by Army doctors and nurses. I had numerous tubes of blood drawn. I received several immunizations. By the time I was done with all that, I felt more like a fucking human pincushion than a soldier. I had a quick dental check-up with an Army dentist and had some x-rays taken. I got my hearing tested, which is always nerve-wracking because the sound of my breathing tends to drown out all of the beeps. I gave a urine sample and had a test to determine my risk for heart disease, took a vision test both with and without my contacts in, and answered about a jillion questions about my physical and mental health history.

Last but not least, the guys and I went over our financial and administrative forms with Army officials. We did a mandatory weapons qualification check, ensured that we were all in good physical condition to complete the tour, and finally received the all-too-important red stamp on the front of our files stating that we were fit to deploy.

"Let's do this," Howell said, slapping my back as we headed out of the Center with our rucksacks. "It's official. Let's go kick some Iraqi ass!"

Jesus, he sounded like Bobby.

"Easy man," Jason Fernandez spoke up, laughing. Fernandez, a Captain, was another one of our Delta guys and had traveled to D.C. from Orlando. "Let's get there in one piece first."

"Fuck that," spat 1st Lt. David Harris. "Let's all take the wrong flight when we get to the tarmac. We'll accidentally board the one going to Bermuda, and when we get there we'll -

Fernandez couldn't help but interrupt. "That's great, Harris. By the way, what's your preference for a prison when the Army decides to throw us in one? Besides, the Air Force doesn't have flights going out to Bermuda. It's either to the desert, or to another post, or back to the desert. Take it or leave it. No fun stuff."

"Gentlemen," I cut in. "I've just been stuck with about six needles. My eyes are crossed from the damn vision tests, and I'm still hearing fucking beeps. Not to mention the fact that I haven't eaten anything but airline peanuts in almost nine hours. I've got a fucking gorgeous woman at home that I desperately want to make love to right about now, a new Xbox Live game that I _still_ haven't gotten the chance to play, and a bottle of Patrón sitting on my bar dying to be opened. And now I'm stuck boarding a one-way flight out to the fucking desert in two hours with nothing but a sniper rifle and a backpack filled with hardly anything but combat uniforms and sunscreen. So can we please_, please _go get something to eat?"

Four pairs of eyes widened and focused on me.

Finally, "Santos, man. Why didn't you say something sooner? Let's go get some sandwiches or pizza or something." Harris clapped his hand on my back just as Howell lightly punched my arm. "Damn. I feel you about the sex thing. And my wife just went to Victoria's Secret yesterday, too. Bought a whole bunch of sexy stuff right before I got the call from LTC Rodgers."

"That blows," groaned 1st Lt. Sean Brightman. "After I got called yesterday evening, my girl told me that I was in for the best night of my life. And you know what? It was." Brightman grinned wickedly at all of us as we attacked him with playful slaps and punches.

This was going to be one long-ass mission.

* * *

**Two weeks later, somewhere in the desert outside of Kirkuk...  
**  
Iraq was fucking dry. Sand was everywhere, as far as the eye could see. The sky was clear blue, the wind was rough, and the sun seemed brighter here than anywhere else in the world. It was chilly in the desert this time of year and the temperatures actually dropped into the forties at night, forcing us to dress in layers and bundle up in our barracks.

I was currently wedged between a dilapidated white brick wall and Howell, flat on my belly with my eye up to the scope of my sniper rifle. Howell was my spotter, and his primary responsibility was to help me make the shot as accurately as I could. We'd teamed up on the last mission and _that_ went as easy as fucking pie, so our commanding officers decided to go for a repeat Santos/Howell performance.

"Santos. Do you see that?" he whispered to me, looking away from his spotter scope. He turned back to the scope. "In the window off to the right. Something's moving."

I peered through my rifle scope and tried to get a look at what he was talking about. Sure enough, a white-robed figure was moving about in one of the rooms on the top floor of the apartment complex. "Is it al Jaber?"

"I'll see if Grodin and Fernandez up in the tower can make a positive ID." Howell got on the comm radio and requested Intel on our possible suspect. Mohammed al Jaber was a known terrorist involved in several al-Qaeda organizations and not to mention a total nutcase. He was wanted for killing several Iraqi civilians and for bombing a U.S. Army installation near Camp Victory in Baghdad. To say he was dangerous was an understatement. My unit had received direct orders from the Pentagon to get a fucking bullet into him ASAP.

Fernandez and Lieutenant Colonel Grodin were stationed up in the tower directly behind us. They had a clear view of the apartment complex from where they were located, but the angle at which the tower sat would have made a sniper shot nearly impossible. Which is why Howell and I were smashed between the walls of another building facing the complex, on our bellies, hoping to God that we were hidden enough. I had to pee like a motherfucker, Howell's ass was no doubt itching from that scorpion bite he'd gotten earlier in the day, and we were both hungry, but all three of those things were on the back burner until al Jaber was killed. By my fucking bullet.

Fernandez's voice squawked through the comm radio and into our headsets. "Alpha one, this is Bravo. The suspect has been positively identified as al Jaber. I repeat, suspect has been positively identified as al Jaber. Over."

"Alpha one copy that, Bravo," I spoke quietly into the mic. I lined up my rifle scope just as Howell scooted closer to me. He adjusted his own scope and we were both silent for a long while, each tracking al Jaber's movements and trying to get the most ideal shot possible.

Finally, Howell whispered, "He's been standing there for awhile."

"Hunh." I continued to keep al Jaber in my line of vision, and when he finally moved to face the window, I could clearly see the bottom of his long black beard. He was facing us, and I was praying like hell that he couldn't see us.

Several more moments passed, and al Jaber hadn't moved.

"Now or never, Santos." Howell fell silent.

My heart rate ratcheted up to about a hundred and fifty and I began to sweat in places I didn't know existed. Although I was a sniper trained to inflict bodily destruction, the fact of having someone's blood on my hands never got any easier each time I had to do it. Regardless if they were bad people or not. It was all just part of the job, part of doing what I signed up to do. But as a human being, military or not, I was still going to kill another human being.

It was too deep of a thought to ponder at that moment. My mind quickly shut back down into _kill _mode, and instead of spending another second contemplating al Jaber's death, I got onto the comm radio and alerted the tower that I'd be making the shot within a matter of seconds.

"Alpha one, requesting clearance to make the shot." I stilled my hand on the trigger of my rifle, focusing in on the task at hand.

"You're clear, Alpha one," LTC Grodin replied a few beats later. Al Jaber was in perfect target position. I couldn't have asked for anything better.

Howell sucked in a breath and let it out. "You're good to go, Santos."

I held my breath and pulled the trigger, as calm as anything. The single bullet whistled through the air and tore through the window that we'd been watching al Jaber through. Through my rifle scope, I watched al Jaber crumble to the ground like a sack of sand. A small spurt of blood covered the front of his white robe, and I knew in my heart that he was dead. And I killed him.

"Suspect down. I repeat, suspect down," Howell announced into the comm radio.

Gunfire was heard from down below us. Shots were being fired by guns and people we couldn't see. I grabbed at Howell and yelled for him to stay down. We snatched up our equipment and, squatting as low as we could, jumped down off of the roof of the building and rolled to our feet.

"Stay behind this wall," Howell stage-whispered to me once we were safely on solid ground. "Let's get to the truck."

"Alpha one, do you copy?" Fernandez was yelling into the comm radio.

"Copy that, Bravo," I hissed. "We've got gunfire on the ground below the apartment complex. I repeat, gunfire on the ground below the apartment complex. We're headed to the truck now."

"Roger that, Alpha one." LTC Grodin sounded grim.

Howell and I raced along brick wall after brick wall of apartment complexes, trying to stay hidden from view and out of the line of the gunfire. The Humvee was about a hundred yards ahead of us. If we made it without getting shot at, I'd consider it a good afternoon.

"Santos, get in," Howell demanded once we'd safely reached the truck. Keeping his head down, he managed to climb up into the passenger's seat and tossed his sniper equipment into the back. I followed suit, and when I got behind the wheel of the Humvee, I put the pedal to the metal and rocketed away from the apartment complexes as fast as I could.

"Shit," I exclaimed to no one in particular as I rocketed the Humvee around a corner. "I fucking _hate_ this shit!"

Howell whipped around in his seat and I heard him suck in a breath. "Santos. We've got company."

Sure enough, following after us was a white truck carrying about five pissed-off Iraqi extremists. Two of them were wielding what looked to me like sniper rifles. Another was empty-handed, but was yelling in Arabic at the top of his lungs. Two more had..._fuck_ me. They had rocket launchers.

Howell was hanging out the window aiming his M16 in an instant. He fired off several shots and managed to take down one of the extremists, but that only made the remaining four even angrier. A live grenade was suddenly thrown at our Humvee, but the thrower had overshot our vehicle and the grenade exploded yards in front of us.

"FUCK!" Howell screamed as a shrapnel of rock flew into the Humvee's open passenger side window and nearly missed his nose by an inch. He was immediately back at the window and fired off several more shots while I drove like hell to try to lose those bastards. "They're holding up the fucking rocket launchers now, man! Turn, do something. Try to lose them!"

I swerved the wheel to the left and managed to wedge the Humvee between two buildings as I floored it, but it was too late. The truck carrying the pissed-off extremists was gaining ground and had now practically plastered their front bumper against the ass of our Humvee. They suddenly retreated and slammed on their brakes, wielding both rocket launchers.

"Jump out, on the count of three," I screamed to Howell. We threw open our doors with the Humvee still moving and got ready to leap out. "One...two...three!"

The Humvee crashed off to the right against a brick wall as we landed on our feet and rolled to either side of the now-immobile Humvee, our comm radio headsets flying off. _Pfffunfffffhhh_. Flames from the rocket launcher shot overhead of us and in the split second we had before the Humvee in front of us blew to pieces, I managed to grab Howell and roll him against a brick wall, behind me. I quickly turned my head to the right, away from the Humvee.

_BOOSH. _The loudest explosion I'd ever heard in my life came from directly in front of us as the Humvee ignited into a fireball. My head was covered with my arms and all that was running through my head at that moment was whether or not I'd live through this and get home alive to Stephanie. I instantly heard a deafening ringing in my ears and felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my left thigh as I was shot by one of the extremists' rifles.

Howell was laying between me and the brick wall, not moving. I tried yelling at him to see if he was still alive, but I wasn't sure if my vocal cords were working because I couldn't hear myself screaming. The ringing in my head increased ten-fold, and blackness overtook my vision as I passed out in the gravel.

* * *

**TBC...how will Stephanie and the guys react to the news that Lester's been injured? Will Les be okay? What will this mean for Steph and Lester as a couple and how will it affect their future together? Find out soon!**


	11. Chapter 11

**The long awaited fate of Lester Santos is finally here. Thank you to all who have read, reviewed, PMed, and begged for an update! These last couple of chapters have been difficult to write. I hope you're enjoying this story so far! A million thank-yous to my readers and supporters, and an even bigger thank you to our country's service men and women who continue to fight for our great nation. **

* * *

Steph's POV

Lester had been deployed for almost two weeks when I finally mustered up the strength to attend one of my mother's notoriously-insane family dinners. Grandma Mazur had a new boyfriend, and Valerie and Albert were going to be there with the girls. Why don't you come over? she'd asked me. We haven't seen nor hardly heard from you for weeks. I'd been staying in Lester's townhouse since the second I'd gotten back from saying goodbye to him at the airport, only leaving to do my nine-to-five stint at RangeMan and occasionally chasing down rag-tag skips with Lula. I figured it was time to face my family and the hoardes questions I knew they'd have as to why I'd been missing in action for so long.

I went back to work a couple of days after Lester left, mostly because I needed the money and because I knew that staying busy would keep my mind off of missing him and worrying. The guys were prepared; they'd arranged for all kinds of activities for me to partake in, such as working on my marksmanship down in the range, practicing takedown maneuvers on the mats, and polishing up my computer skills. I was grateful for their understanding, and even more grateful for the fact that they cared so much about me.

My relationship with Ranger improved on a daily basis. Most of the tension was, for the most part, gone. I felt as though I could be myself around him again, and vice versa. We went back to a comfortable friendship with no uncomfortable feelings of hidden jealousy and uncertainty. I knew that it would take awhile before he began to accept my relationship with Lester, and I was totally prepared for that. He was coming around, slowly but surely, and just a day ago he'd even asked me if I was excited about Les's return and what our plans were for the immediate future.

I'd told him the truth. Although Les and I loved each other, our relationship was still so new. We had a lot to look forward to. And we had a lot of past to try and keep behind us. As best friends for nearly two years now, there wasn't much we didn't know about each other. But there was still so much that would be a learning experience for the both of us. Ranger was completely understanding, albeit quiet, when I'd explained all that to him. But the warm smile and comforting hug he'd given me afterwards let me know that, in his own way and in due time, he'd eventually grow to be okay with Les and I.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Grandma Mazur called from the front porch as I slammed the door to Lester's Escalade and trooped up the front path. "That's some snazzy new vehicle you've got."

"It's on loan," I replied. I let Grandma hold the screen door open for me as I stepped into the foyer. Delicious cooking smells invaded my nostrils as I took off my coat. My stomach grumbled in anticipation. "Lasagna?"

"Yep." Grandma took my coat and carefully hung it up on the clothes tree next to the front door.

My mother came bustling into the living room in an apron, her face flushed from the warmth of the stove. "Who's truck is that outside?" she wanted to know.

"Stephanie's borrowed it from somewhere," Grandma immediately replied, before I could explain. "It looks like a man's car." She turned to my mother. "Looks like the owner's one of them smokin' hot bounty hunters. What do you think, Helen?"

"What happened to your Uncle Sandor's Buick? I thought that was suiting you perfectly fine," my mom said, frowning at me.

I shrugged. "It was getting pretty hard to haul skips around in the Buick." I brushed past them both and seated myself at the dining room table. My father was already at the head of the table, doing a great job at ignoring the hundred and ten-year-old man sitting directly next to him, on the left. The poor little fella had osteoporosis to the point of no return, a rug perched on his head that resembled a dead squirrel after getting pummelled by an Army tank, and a set of false clackers that were resting next to his water glass. I'll be damned if this wasn't Grandma's date.

I pushed my chair in and unfolded my napkin just as the front door reopened, and in ran Mary Alice, Angie, and a toddling Lisa. Valerie followed, and Albert brought up the rear with the diaper bag. Screaming ensued as each girl ran to hug me at the table. More screaming, as Valerie yelled at the kids to stop yelling. And nothing but embarrassed, pink-faced silence from Albert Kloughn.

Bedlam. Pure bedlam.

When things died down, my mother brought out the lasagna and a big basket of garlic toast. The house got so quiet you could hear a pin drop as everyone began stuffing their faces and grabbing second helpings.

After awhile, "Who's truck?" Valerie asked me. "Ranger's?"

_Here it comes_, I thought. I shook my head. "Nope."

"Tank's?" Val pressed.

"Uh-uh." I bit into a slice of garlic toast.

"Who's is it, Steph?"

"Lester's."

My grandmother immediately dropped her fork and began fanning herself with her napkin. My dad raised his head up from his plate, my mother stared at me wide-eyed, and Albert Kloughn turned pink. Again.

"What?" I asked defensively.

Grandma said, "Marge Schuster told me at the Clip N' Curl last Saturday that Aurelia Santos's grandson had recently been deployed on some cockeyed mission out in the desert a couple of weeks ago."

Shit. I should have known that Grandma would have heard about Lester, since she, Marge, Aurelia, and Callie Hartfield all play Bunco together on Tuesday nights. "Yeah, he left almost thirteen days ago." I finished off my garlic bread and took a sip of red wine.

"I haven't seen Lester in a couple of months," my mother remarked. "It was nice of him to lend you his vehicle while he's away."

"So why do you have it?" Grandma pressed.

I slammed my fork down and saw red. "_Why_ is it so important to you?"

"You've been practically off the map for three weeks now, Stephanie," my mom jumped in. "You could at least give us an explanation as to what you've been doing and whether or not you're okay!"

"I'm fine," I snapped. "I've been busy at work. The skips aren't going to bring themselves in, you know."

Everyone fell silent, most likely because I almost _never_ get so worked up about anything. I wasn't sure what to say next, so I concentrated on finishing up my dressing-saturated salad and draining my wine glass. I felt myself begin to relax slightly, silently thanking God for fermented grapes.

Grandma's date cleared his throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Edna, I hate to be a buzzkill on this little party, but if you don't show me where the boys' room is and quickly, my lasagna and garlic are gonna make an encore appearance on this dining room chair." Grandma and I immediately jumped up and grabbed the man by his armpits before frog-marching him up the stairs at top speed.

"Get him into that God-damned bathroom now or so help me Jesus," I heard my father bellow.

Talk about being a party-pooper.

* * *

When dinner was officially over and Grandma's date had been confiscated by the night nurse at the Shady Rest Nursing Home, I carried my newly-refilled glass of wine over to the living room couch and plopped down. Valerie and my mother curled up beside me, and Grandma sunk her bony frame into her favorite recliner. The girls and Albert were sitting on the other side of the room with my father, and the TV volume was up so as to drown out the girls' little chatting voices as they played Barbies near the coffee table.

"Out with it," Grandma said immediately as soon as she sat down. "Something's going on with you. I can feel it in my bones."

I sighed. "I'm fine. Really."

"Stephanie, please tell us. You're my daughter, and I know when things aren't right in your world." My mother reached over and took my hand. Valerie looked on, smiling sympathetically. "Is there something going on between you and Lester? Something beyond your friendship?"

Might as well tell them, because they're going to find out eventually. I took a deep breath and let it out. "Yes," I admitted on a sigh. I pressed my lips together. "Before he got deployed, we admitted that we had feelings for each other."

Grandma, Val, and my mother were silent. Then, "How serious is this?" my mom asked me.

"I really don't know," I said. Suddenly, unexpected tears sprang to the corners of my eyes. "I care a lot about him." The tears spilled over. Awesome. My word diarrhea continued to flow, and blubbering sobs were now added to the mix. "I mean, I've always felt different about Lester than anyone else I've dated, Ranger and Joe included. He's been my best friend, and my rock. And he's God-knows-where right now, and saying goodbye to him two weeks ago was just about the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I just wish someone could understand how I'm feeling, and what I'm going through. I have no idea how he's doing over there."

"Stephanie," my mother said softly. She squeezed my hand and scooted closer to me on the couch. "I'm so sorry you're feeling this way. I had no idea this has been going on. Why you felt you had to hide the fact that you're in an important relationship is completely beyond me."

I sniffed. "It's not as though I've been hiding it from you all, but everything has happened so fast with Lester and I that we'd only had a single week together as a couple before he was deployed. And I've been trying to make sense of everything since he left. I haven't been ready to face anybody until tonight."

"Well, this is certainly some news," Grandma piped up with a grin. "You and Aurelia's hot bounty hunter grandson. Wait'll the girls hear this."

"Grandma," Valerie exclaimed. "Stop exploiting Stephanie."

My mother pulled me close. "I'm sure he's fine," she said softly. "Have you heard from him yet?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm not sure when he'll be able to call, because he's with Delta Force. Their missions are extremely classified and almost always dangerous. If I think too hard about what he's going through over there, I'll lose it for sure."

"Such a brave young man," Grandma commented. "I know that my granddaughter's safe with him in her life. I'm proud, actually. Everyone I know speaks so highly of Aurelia's grandson. He's done pretty well for himself, what with the Army and Ranger's company and all. You've picked a good one." Grandma grinned. "And he sure is one _hot_ piece of bounty hunter ass."

"Mother!" my mom exclaimed, outraged. "This isn't the time!"

"I know, I know."

I had to smile through my tears. "Yeah, but I'm going to have to totally agree with Grandma on that one."

Grandma winked. "You welcome him home with open arms," she said, reaching over to pat my hand. "And legs."

I did a slow burn against the arm of the couch. "Grandma..."

"I know, I know."

* * *

Valerie drove me to my apartment in Lester's Escalade later on that evening, because I'd had a few too many glasses of wine and probably shouldn't have been operating heavy machinery. Especially since everyone I looked at had three heads. Albert and the girls followed us in their van, so that Val could drop me off and go ahead home.

"I just need to get a few things," I told her before we got out of the truck. "Some clean clothes and more of Rex's hamster pellets. I'll take them back to Lester's with me in the morning."

"Sure, Steph," she said, cutting the engine. She turned to me and smiled. "I'm really happy for you. Bring him around sometime, will you? You don't have to be ashamed or embarrassed because you're in a relationship with someone you care about."

"I'm surprised Mom took it so well," I admitted with a sigh. "Usually she has something to say about whatever's going on in my life. And love life."

Valerie smiled again. "We all know Lester's a great guy. And I'm sure that if he wasn't, you wouldn't be so worked up about him."

"Yeah," I agreed. "He's pretty fantastic." I smiled tearfully back at Val. "I miss him so much."

"I know." Valerie leaned across the center console and embraced me tightly for several moments before we finally climbed out of the truck. "I'll walk you upstairs."

When I was settled into the cool sanctitude of my apartment and Valerie had gone home, I managed to make it into the bathroom. I didn't trust myself to stand in the slippery shower without breaking my neck, and I didn't for a second think that I wouldn't accidentally drown myself if I drew a bath, so I settled for washing up in the sink with my non-skid socks on for extra protection. I got myself cleaned up and dried off without incident, so I blow-dried my hair and threw on my pajamas before skulking into my bedroom.

I got the bed covers turned down, but realized I'd left my pillow over at Lester's. I slunk out to the living room and retrieved a small couch cushion, thinking it would do for now. I returned to my bedroom and climbed into bed, too tired and too tipsy to even throw the covers back over myself.

I fell into a shallow, fitful sleep with Lester on the brain. I missed him so much that it ached, and at one point I'd woken up thinking he was next to me in bed but when my arms wrapped around my comforter instead of his warm, protective body, I physically had to force myself to stop sobbing. Visions of him in combat in Iraq plagued me and I couldn't fall back to sleep no matter how hard I tried. At eleven forty-five, I finally gave up on trying to sleep and tried to conjure up images of him lying in bed next to me, doing wonderful things with his talented hands and lips, alternating between crying and biting my lips to keep from screaming his name into the pillow.

Between my tears of anguish and my irrational feelings of lust for the man I loved, I was overwhelmed with emotion. Anger that I'd had to give him up soon after finding happiness at having him as mine. Guilt, for feeling angry. Heartbreak. Happiness. Pride for what he was doing for our country. It was all hitting me ten-fold.

The locks tumbled on my front door at a little after midnight.

I was immediately frightened. No one knew I was at my apartment besides my Val and Albert, and the fact that the Buick was still hidden away in Lester's garage alerted me to the fact that whoever was breaking in most likely wasn't a skip. And I knew for sure that it wasn't one of the guys, breaking in to check on me when they could have called instead. That left one person.

He came into view in my bedroom doorway, illuminated by the light shining in from the kitchen nightlight. Dressed in black, as always, his hair tied securely behind his head in its usual ponytail.

"What are you doing here?" I croaked out. I blinked to clear my fuzzy vision and tried to focus in on his face.

He cleared his throat. "I saw Santos's Escalade in your lot," he replied quietly. "I thought you were staying over there until he got back."

I struggled to sit up in bed. "I am," I replied. "I came here to get a few things but decided to stay until the morning. I had a little too much wine at my parents' house."

"I'm guessing you've told them about you and Santos?"

I nodded. "They took it well, surprisingly."

Ranger sat down on the edge of my bed. "Wow. I'm surprised, too."

I paused. "So you still haven't answered my question. Why are you here?"

Ranger took a deep breath in and let it out. "I'm not all that sure," he said finally. "I guess I just needed to make sure you were okay."

I was silent.

"_Are_ you okay?"

More silence. Finally, I shook my head. "I thought I was doing okay so far, but tonight everything just seems to be overwhelming to me for some reason."

Ranger nodded once. "I can get with that," he replied softly. "Having trouble sleeping?"

"A little."

"Want me to stay until you fall asleep?"

"You don't have to." I drew in a breath and my voice cracked as I added, "But it would be nice."

Ranger leaned over and kissed my forehead before getting up and walking over to the other side of the bed. He kicked off his boots and unstrapped several firearms before finally smoothing the bed covers and stretching out on top of them, on his back. He put his hands behind his head and turned to face me. "Sleep, babe."

I yawned and snuggled down under the covers, feeling the bed shift with his weight as he tried to get more comfortable. Never realizing how bone-dead tired I actually was until now, I let my eyes slip shut and allowed Ranger's steady, even breathing to lull me into a deep sleep.

* * *

The ringing of a cell phone startled me at quarter to seven the next morning. I lifted my head off of the pillow and blinked through the cobwebs, unsure of where the noise was coming from. From off to the right, movement caught my eye. To my complete surprise, Ranger was still lying next to me, fully clothed and still stretched out on top of the comforter, on his back with his head on his arm. He was listening to someone speak on the other end of his cell phone's airwaves, and he looked at me after he'd wrapped up the call and full-on grinned. I couldn't believe he'd stayed the entire night with me. Surely he had more important things to do. I didn't want to press my luck, but I couldn't help asking him what he was still doing in my apartment.

"I guess I needed rest, too," Ranger replied sheepishly. "I haven't slept this late in years."

"And I haven't gotten up this early in years."

Ranger chuckled. "While you're awake and alert, I might as well tell you that it was Tank who called me just now. An indemnitor of one of your skips called Control with their whereabouts. Tank thought you'd like to know, since he got your voicemail before calling me."

"Who's the skip?" I asked.

"Murray Hornswoggle."

I groaned. "He's a nut," I exclaimed, smushing my face back into my pillow. "He's the one with all of those giant pet salamanders."

Ranger frowned and said, "I thought he was the taxidermist who makes the exploding roadkill."

"No. That's Carl Coglin."

"Your life never disappoints, babe." Ranger's full-on grin got wider, which only served to piss me off further.

We were on the road less than ten minutes later. I'd thrown on jeans and a Metallica tee shirt before stuffing my feet into the oldest, rattiest sneakers I could find. There was no way I was stepping around Hornswoggle's filthy row house, getting salamander guts and lizard poop all over my new Nikes. Since Ranger had driven his Porsche over to my apartment the night before, we decided to commandeer Lester's Escalade for our little adventure. Ranger was behind the wheel, and I was in the passenger's seat trying to figure out which takedown goodies I wanted to use to capture Hornswoggle. I settled on pepper spray that shot up to ten feet away, should I have to protect myself and Ranger from an unruly salamander, cuffs, and a stun gun.

Tank had told Ranger that ol' Murray was at the Pet Supermarket in Ramblewood, stocking up on various insects and earthworms to feed his ugly lizards. The plan was to follow him home from the pet store and make the capture before he went into his reptile-infested bachelor pad, but I was beginning to think that this was going to be harder than we'd originally thought. I wasn't sure how Ranger felt about salamanders, and I had a feeling that either one or both of us were leaving with slobber from their lizard-lips all over our pantlegs.

I'd been trying to get a bead on Hornswoggle for days and had absolutely no luck each time Lula and I went to ring his doorbell. He was _never_ home, but the fact that I knew his giant lizards were lurking around behind the front door, waiting for either my boot to sail through the rotting wood or for Lula's handbag to come crashing through the living room window, kept us from trying to break in to see if Murray was hiding. She and I were sick of driving the seventy-miles both-ways trip to Ramblewood on a near-daily basis, and Lester's Escalade guzzled more gas than the Buick. Well, maybe not more than the Buick, but it came pretty damn close. Luckily for me, Hornswoggle's bond was twenty grand and I'd make my ten percent as soon as we got his ass hauled back to the clink. That would _more_ than make up for the two tanks of gas I'd purchased since he went FTA.

I shivered and said, "I just want to get Hornswoggle and hope to God I don't get trapped in that lizard-infested shit hole of his."

Ranger cut his eyes to me. "Babe. Just a little FYI. Salamanders aren't lizards, they're amphibians. They're in the same family as frogs and toads."

"A biology lesson from the man of mystery," I exclaimed incredulously. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"I spent long months in the jungles of Colombia on missions." Ranger grinned. "You'd be surprised."

I didn't doubt that for a second.

Ranger steered the SUV into a small parking lot and cut the engine. "This is it," he announced. The black and yellow Pet Supermarket sign loomed ahead. "Is that his car?" Ranger pointed to a older-model Cadillac that was parked neatly near the front entrance.

The papers with Hornswoggle's vehicle information were near the front of his file. I pulled out the one I needed and sure enough, his white Caddy was listed as his personal vehicle. "Yeah," I replied. I'd never seen his car until now, either because he'd had it hidden in the garage each time Lula and I came to call or because he really wasn't home when we went to collect him.

I was leaning more toward the garage theory when a bearded old man exited Pet Supermarket, loaded down with bags. He headed in the direction of the white Caddy and I nudged Ranger. Sure enough, the man tossed all of the bags into the trunk of the white Caddy and got into the car.

"Let's get him," Ranger said. "I hope he doesn't recognize this car."

"He shouldn't," I reminded him. "He wasn't home the last three times Lula and I went over there."

Ranger looked over at me. His facial expression said, "Yeah, right, Steph."

"I know, I know. I'm kidding myself."

"I wasn't going to say it, babe."

We followed the white Caddy containing Murray Hornswoggle at a distance for nearly fifteen minutes before it finally pulled down a dirt road in a wooded section of town. The majority of homes in Ramblewood were large and sprawling, but many were down on their luck as far as cosmetic appearance. Hornswoggle's house was no exception. Lula and I knew that he lived there alone, and to make matters worse, Ranger and I watched him pull the white Caddy directly into the garage near the side of the property.

Shit.

"So he probably _was_ home all those times," I stage-whispered, pissed. "Lula and I have just been too afraid to break in and get him for fear of becoming salamander salad."

Ranger smirked. "We're parked out of the way," he said. "That big tree is hiding us from view, but if we want to get him before he goes inside the house, now would be a good time to move in."

"Okay," I agreed. "Let's tag-team him."

For the next half hour, Ranger and I engaged ourselves in an all-out insect and worm fight with a crazy man who'd gone to jail for assaulting his elderly, Burg-residing mother's crotchety neighbor with a piece of firewood. Bugs were swarming in and out of my hair at alarming speeds. Ranger had taken a face full of earthworms, and the biggest of all of Murray's pet salamanders, who ironically went by the name Shorty, was outside to add to the melee. As I'd suspected earlier, Ranger and I climbed back into the Escalade with pantlegs full of salamander spit.

We got Hornswoggle loaded down and shackled in the Escalade in record time before Shorty nearly jumped in after us. Ranger hit the gas and rocketed us forward so fast that the tires skidded on the muddy grass. When we were halfway down Hornswaggle's dirt road, Ranger suddenly jumped up in his seat and yelled, "Fuck!"

"What?" I exclaimed, immediately on the alert for salamander-danger.

Ranger pulled an earthworm out from underneath the collar of his painted-on black tee shirt. "Open your window." I did as he asked and Ranger reached over me and hurled the earthworm into the woods as we flew by. "There'd better be no more surprises."

"Sorry about all this," I mumbled, sinking down into my seat and feeling lower than salamander slime.

Ranger's lips twitched upwards in the promise of a smile. "You seriously owe me. Big time."

Uh-oh.

* * *

Ranger dropped us off at my apartment later on in the afternoon. "The guys had mentioned something yesterday about going out tonight," he told me just before opening the door to his Porsche. "Would you be interested in coming?"

"Sure," I said, smiling and holding up my check for rounding up Hornswoggle. "First round's on me."

Ranger grinned back. "Hell, yeah."

"By the way, thank you for everything. For staying with me last night, and for helping me get Hornswoggle, and for getting covered in earthworm goo and salamander slobber for me..."

"It's all just part of being involved in your life," Ranger replied on a sigh. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything." Ranger approached me and embraced me tightly. "You're going to be okay. Santos will be okay. Stop dwelling on it, Steph."

I hugged Ranger back and stepped away a few moments later. "You're right," I admitted. "I think staying busy helps to keep my mind from dreaming up all kinds of bad stuff. And hanging out with you guys tonight would be fun."

"See you at Rick's around nine, then?"

"Yeah. I'll be there."

I watched as Ranger slid on his shades, fired up the Porsche, and tore off down St. James. He was a wonderful friend, and I was lucky to still have him as that despite all of what's happened. Being with him today felt like old times, minus the weird sexual tension and the inappropriate seductive innuendo. I was happy to have my friend back, and I didn't miss the tension and innuendo at all and I was glad.

Rick's was an upscale sports bar down by the river that had dollar-beers and all-u-can-eat fried shrimp every night of the week. At a quarter to nine, I swung the Escalade into a parking spot close to the entrance and spotted Tank near the doors. Rick's was hopping and I was seriously craving one of their world-famous mango margaritas.

"Hey," I called to Tank, smiling. He immediately headed towards me and wrapped me in a tight hug.

"How you doin', Steph?" he asked, ruffling my curls. "Good to see you out tonight. Everybody's already inside."

I scoffed. "What, am I a hermit to you guys or something?" I punched him playfully on the arm.

"We were worried that you'd decided to lock yourself in Santos's house and never come out," Tank replied, cracking up.

"Believe me, that's crossed my mind. I'm doing better, though."

At ten minutes to ten, Ranger suggested that we all go out onto the patio where it was quieter so that we could all actually hear each other talking. A waitress followed us out there and took more drink orders from us. Hal and Erik were there with Tank and Ranger and I, along with Cal, Bobby, Junior, and Vince. I was having fun, and it felt wonderful to be surrounded by so many people who truly cared about me.

"...and the fucking salamander latched himself onto my cargoes and wouldn't let go," Ranger was exclaiming, brandishing his bottle of beer, causing the rest of the guys to howl with laughter. Erik wiped tears from his eyes, Cal nearly choked on his drink, and Tank was simply shaking his head, smiling.

"You should have seen it," I piped up. "Ranger still had an earthworm down the back of his tee shirt when we got back into the car."

More howling laughter.

"I've got to hand it to Steph, though," Ranger continued. "She was so angry at Hornswoggle that I thought she was going to break his wrists in half while she cuffed him. Good thing - " Ranger was cut off by his cell phone ringing. He glanced at the readout and then looked at all of us. "Hang on." He hit the call answer button and barked, "Manoso...yes, sir...understood, sir. Roger. We're en route right away."

The atmosphere on the patio suddenly changed. I went from feeling relaxed and comfortable to immediately on edge, my heart rate beginning to pick up speed. Ranger quickly hung up and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair. "There's a situation overseas." He looked directly at Tank, silently communicating with him using his eyes. Tank must have understood, because he nodded in affirmation. "Tank, I want you and Bobby to take Stephanie directly to Trenton Mercer Executive. The rest of you hold down the fort. I need you to stay focused while we're gone." He turned to me. "Go with Tank and Bobby, babe. I'll meet you at the airport." With that, Ranger and the rest of the guys moved quickly toward their vehicles, peeling out of the Rick's parking lot after hauling themselves inside and firing up the engines.

My brain was whirling. What happened overseas? Overseas as in Iraq or Afghanistan? Or overseas like Europe? My heart pounded hard. Was this about Lester? I had no idea, and I was now scared to death. I felt Tank come up behind me and guide me by the shoulders over to his SUV. He wordlessly helped me into the front seat and got me buckled in before climbing into the driver's side. Bobby slid into the backseat and slammed himself in, and we took off out of the parking lot at near-top speed.

"Tank," I grit out. "What's happening? Is this about Lester? Where are we going?"

Tank cut his eyes to me and held my gaze for several moments. Without answering my questions, he turned his focus back to the road ahead and continued to speed us down street after street on our way to Trenton Mercer Executive. I dared not to speak again for fear that he and Bobby would duct-tape my mouth shut and hog-tie me to the roof. I knew they wouldn't, but something was going on. And they weren't ready to tell me yet.

Twenty minutes of deafening silence passed by before Tank swung the SUV into the parking lot of a small private airstrip. "We've got a private jet here," he told me finally just before parking on the tarmac. "RangeMan's pilot is always on stand-by for things like this."

"Okay, that's it. Where are we going?" I demanded shrilly for a second time as Tank and Bobby ushered me out of the SUV and over to a small building. Again, no one answered me. "Lester got hurt over there, didn't he." More silence. "I can't believe you guys! You can't just...just be all quiet at a time like this!"

"Steph -

Ranger burst inside the building then, halting Bobby's speech. Ranger was carrying a small overnight bag and a couple of passports. "I've got yours," he said to me. He held up a little blue booklet that contained yet another unflattering picture of me. A man came over to the counter and greeted Ranger. He introduced himself to us as the pilot of Ranger's private jet, and led us all out to the tarmac.

It was all happening so fast. One minute, I was drinking margaritas with the guys and Ranger, and the next minute I was boarding a private jet bound for God-knows-where, with no one telling me our destination or whether or not this whirlwind extravaganza included the drop-dead-gorgeous soldier fighting overseas who was nestled snugly into my heart and soul for good. It was all too much.

As soon as we had boarded the Learjet and Ranger had turned to face me, I yelled, "Where the _hell_ are we going? Why won't anyone answer that for me, hunh? You can't just put me on a fucking private jet after a super-secretive phone call and expect me not to ask any questions! I'm not four years old. I can understand a serious situation! What does _any_ of this have to do with me? Is Lester okay? You'd tell me whether or not he was, right? Wouldn't you?" I looked from Ranger, to Tank, to Bobby, and back to Ranger. I was met with blank facial expressions from each of them, but their three sets of eyes showed more anguish and upset than I'd ever seen.

"Steph," Ranger cut in. He sounded defeated. "We're bound for Germany."

I was hysterical. Arm-waving, foot-stomping, Italian-hand-gesturing hysterical. "Germany? Why the hell are we going to Germany? What the fuck, Ranger?" I just wasn't understanding.

"Listen to me!" Ranger grabbed my arms and held them firmly at my sides. He took a deep breath and looked back at Tank and Bobby for support. They nodded for him to continue, and he let his breath out. His voice cracked as he said, "Santos was injured in combat. They've stabilized him at the camp in Iraq and are preparing to fly him into Ramstein Air Base, which is where we're flying into tonight. From there, he'll go to Landstuhl Army Medical Center for further treatment."

Ranger's lips were still moving, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. All I could hear was the sound of my own blood screaming through my veins as my heart pounded away in my chest, threatening to shatter into pieces. Lester was hurt. Something happened. At that moment, I could do nothing else but reach out with my hands and try to grab onto something before my knees became too weak for me to stand on. Tank immediately was at my side and caught me before I sank down to the floor of the plane. He moved me to a comfortable chair and I stared into space, completely numb from the neck down and not believing that any of this was happening.

A tremendous noise filtered through the smog in my brain then, and I realized the pilot was firing up the engines of the Learjet. Tank sat down next to me and began to gently rub my neck and shoulders, but I was too stunned to even acknowledge him. I just kept on staring at the seat in front of me. He was speaking quietly and soothingly to me, I knew, but I barely heard him over the jet engines.

The plane shot down the runway and then went airborne. Eight hours later, in the middle of a cool, sunny European afternoon, we were landing on an Air Force base in Germany, in the midst of big, ugly gray jets and men and women in camouflage uniforms as we walked off the plane and onto the tarmac. The guys ushered me over to an awaiting Humvee and got me situated inside. I was still very weak and hadn't eaten anything during the flight, and I was physically and emotionally exhausted from sobbing.

I'd learned from Ranger, who had learned from someone on base at Ramstein, that there had been some kind of flamethrower attack on Lester's unit, and he and another Delta soldier were involved along with a small group of terrifying Iraqi insurgents. No one was exactly sure what kinds of injuries Lester had sustained, but we knew he'd survived the attack and thankfully, so did the other soldier from his sniper unit.

Landstuhl Army Medical Center loomed up ahead of us on the right. We pulled under the entrance overhang and our driver cut the Humvee's engine. Our escort, who had introduced himself as Corporal Bransfield, ushered Ranger, Tank, and Bobby and I out of the truck and through the front doors of the hospital. We came to a stop at the reception desk and were greeted by a smiling female soldier. She informed us that Lester's plane had already arrived from Iraq and he was now being settled on the fourth floor, in the step-down intensive care unit. We thanked her and were immediately taken, by Corporal Bransfield, to the bank of elevators near the lobby's front doors.

Christ, I can't even begin to explain the fear I was feeling as I rode that elevator. I had no idea what Lester would look like, or how badly his injuries were, or if he would even act the same. All I kept seeing was his beautiful smiling face each time I closed my eyes, and promised myself that as long as he was alive, we'd get through whatever obstacles came our way because I loved him and he loved me.

Corporal Bransfield ushered us into a small waiting room on the fourth floor, where there were couches and a TV and a couple of vending machines. He nodded to Ranger and turned on his boot heel before heading out of the room, leaving the four of us standing there, unsure of what to do next.

"He's real lucky," an Army doctor spoke up after clearing his throat, coming up from behind me to stand with us. "Bullet just went in and stayed there. No arterial damage or nerve trauma. He saved the life of another man in his unit. Captain Christopher Howell. If it weren't for Santos, Captain Howell would have taken a fatal shot to the head."

My heart swelled with pride as I felt Bobby clap me gently on the shoulder. "That's Santos," Tank said, his voice cracking. "He'll always have your back."

"I'm Major Grace," the doctor said. He extended his hand to each of us as we introduced ourselves. "I'm one of Captain Santos's physicians. Has anyone been in to speak with you yet?" We shook our heads. "Good. It'll give me a chance to explain what's going on firsthand. Captain Santos is extremely lucky, like I'd mentioned. This could have been much worse, but since he was so well-trained for combat he was able to think and act quickly before backup even arrived. In fact, just moments after he lost consciousness, a mobile unit was on scene. All five of the insurgents who had instigated the attack were killed by U.S. bullets."

I let out a sob of anguish at the thought of Les losing consciousness, but Tank acted quickly and pulled me up against his chest, further muffling my sniffles.

Major Grace continued, "I want to prepare you for the type of injuries that Captain Santos has sustained. Several lacerations from the shrapnel of his exploding vehicle have been repaired at the camp in Iraq, on various appendages. Mostly his hands, neck, and face. They should heal with minimal scarring. His leg _will_ regain function. Most likely full function. It was a simple gunshot wound, with hardly any damage to the surrounding tissue. We're going in to repair it tomorrow and I'm confident that he'll make a complete recovery from that."

"That's good news," barked Bobby gruffly. I knew he was devastated because Lester is his best friend. This was killing him just as much as it was me, and I reached over and squeezed his hand.

"Now," Major Grace said, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. "This is the bad news. The explosion was extremely close-range and Santos was lucky not to have further injuries than what he'd already sustained. When the human body is engaged in such a traumatic event, there are bound to be repercussions. Due to inadequate hearing protection, both Howell and Santos were subjected to massive amounts of extremely high-decibel explosion sounds. When the eardrums try to take in this amount of noise, they become overwhelmed and sometimes can even rupture.

"Perforated eardrums are extremely common in combat due to the nature of the noise exposure in infantry soldiers. Unfortunately, both of Captain Santos's tympanic membranes are grossly perforated, and his hearing is significantly decreased. He can still somewhat hear, but please know that this condition is only temporary. As his eardrums heal, his hearing should gradually return."

"_Should_ return," I interrupted angrily through my tears. "What if it doesn't? Is there a chance that it won't?"

Major Grace sighed. "I won't lie to you, ma'am. The damage to his eardrums was extensive due to the close range of the explosion. What I _can_ promise you is that he will regain more of his hearing than he actually has now, but as to whether or not there is permanent damage, only several comprehensive evaluations over the next few months will tell us if he actually has permanent hearing loss, based on the results of the test he'd had immediately before deploying."

"When can we see him?" Tank spoke up.

"They've finished settling him into his room down the hall. We've got him hooked up to an IV for fluids and antibiotics. Other than that, he's pulling through fantastically."

"Thank you, Major," Ranger said, nodding to Grace before he walked away.

Lester was in room 4152, bunking up with another soldier who had gotten his foot blown up by a roadside bomb in Afghanistan. The soldier was in the bed closest to the door, and smiled widely when the four of us trooped in. "I've got a nutcase for a roomie," he said to us, gesturing to the curtain that was drawn between his bed and the bed next to him. Lester's bed. "This guy just got here, but already I can tell we're gonna have a blast while we're cooped up in here. No pun intended."

"That sounds like Santos," Tank said wryly. "He awake?" He peeked around the corner of the curtain and motioned for me to join him on Lester's half of the room. I gathered courage from I don't know where and drew in a deep breath. I didn't let it out until I was standing next to Tank, and the sight before my eyes punched me in the gut and all of the air I'd been holding in escaped in a loud sigh.

"Lester," I whispered.

He was lying on his back propped up on pillows, on top of the covers of his bed. His injured leg was stretched out in front of him, covered in big white bandages. An IV pole and pump were set up next to his bed, adorned with bags of saline and antibiotics. He had on a gray Army PT shirt, black gym shorts, and black ankle socks. His hair had grown out a little, and he had a dusting of the sexiest facial hair I'd ever seen on his perfect face. Various cuts and things decorated his warm caramel skin, some covered with band-aids and some left open. And he was looking over at me, smiling so wide I thought his cheeks would crack in half.

"Tank. Beautiful," he croaked out. "Shit, I'm so glad you guys are here."

The tears fell as I cautiously approached him, worried that I'd bump his leg or trip over his IV lines. Tank stepped away from Les and went back behind the curtain, and I heard him tell Ranger and Bobby that they should give me some time alone with Les before they came in to visit. I reached Lester's side at last and practically launched myself at him. He held me tightly as I cried, whispering soothing words and telling me he was so happy to see me and that he loved me. I sobbed in return, feeling his hands stroke my hair and my back.

"You promised me," I said angrily through my tears, my voice muffled into his shoulder. "You promised me you'd come home to me."

"I am coming home, gorgeous," Lester replied, confused. "After I have my surgery tomorrow, I'll go for PT at Walter Reed for a few weeks. Then I can come home for good."

"You promised you'd come home in one piece!"

Lester laughed. "I know you're angry, and I'm sure you're raising your voice but to me it only sounds like you're whispering. Calm down, beautiful. I'll be okay. I'm in one piece. Just my leg'll be a little funky for awhile, and I've got to get all these tests done on my ears, but other than that I'm fine. Shhhh, baby. Stop crying." He brushed his thumbs against my cheekbones to smooth away my tears. "All I thought about while I was over there was you, Steph. I love you so much."

"I love you, too," I blubbered. "We're going to get through this. I'll be with you, every step of the way. You know I will."

"Yeah, we will. I know you'll take good care of me," Lester agreed. "Howell's doing okay. He's actually on his way back to the States. His wife is having a baby soon."

"I heard you saved his life," I said, my voice quiet with awe.

Lester nodded. "He's lucky."

"No," I said, smiling and crying at the same time. "I'm the one who's lucky."

Lester pulled me back into his arms. "Damn right. We both are." He drew my face to his and gave me a gentle kiss, but quickly deepened it when he felt me exhale slowly against his mouth. His tongue slid between my lips and past my teeth, gently pushing against my own. Heat shot through my core and down my legs. I felt Lester's response to me against my right hip, hard and thick. It's been _way _too long since I last felt him pushing into my hot, wet body, sliding so deep and -

"Hey!" Bobby exclaimed from outside the hospital room door. "I don't hear talking anymore!"

"He's crippled for right now, Bomber," Tank added. "At least wait until the bandages come off!"

Lester pulled away and leaned his forehead on mine, each of us panting to catch our breaths. "So the guys are here, hunh? Where's Bossman?"

"He's outside the door, too," I replied. "They're all dying to see you."

"Bring 'em in, then, beautiful." Lester smiled his heart-stopping grin at me. "Too bad my leg is all fucked up and I have a roommate. You could come back later on tonight, and -

"I'm _so_ not going to dignify that with a response, Santos."

Lester kept on grinning. "It was worth a shot."

* * *

**A/N: TBC...how will Steph and Lester cope with these added challenges in their relationship? Find out soon in the next chapter. **


End file.
